


And the sky is fucking blue

by Baby_Matthews



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alive Erica and Boyd, Angst, Blood, Bucky goes by James, Character Death, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Deaf Clint Barton, Explicit Language, HELP I CAN'T TAG, How the Fuck Do I Tag, I should be sleeping, Isaac is an innocent puppy who must be protected, Isaac is the best, It gets better I swear, Lucky the pizza dog - Freeform, Multi, No relationship tags yet, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, Pack Feels, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Proof that Tony Stark has a heart, Protective Pepper Potts, Sassy Stiles, Scott McCall is a Failwolf, Scott McCall is a horrible friend, Self-Destructive Behavior, Self-Harm, Sherff Stilinski is a good dad, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, Stiles Stilinski gets a hug, Stiles Stilinski is awesome, Stiles and Tony should not be allowed near coffee, The sheriff's name is John and you can fucking fight me for it, Theo Raeken is a monster, Tony/Stiles are my favorite BROTP, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, so much fucking angst, sorry cap, trigger warning, unintentional self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2020-09-26 19:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20394913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_Matthews/pseuds/Baby_Matthews
Summary: Stiles leaves Beacon Hills with his father after Scott reaches an all-time high on the Horrible Fucking Friend chart and moves to New York to start a new life. Cue new friends, old friends, and maybe even a love interest?





	1. Stiles is fucking DONE

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. So, this is the first piece I've ever posted for other people to read, so definitely tell me what you think. I'm planning on this being a long one, but I definitely want to ask you guys how this should go.  
Let me apologize in advance for not having a regular update schedule. I don't start school back up for another week or two and even then I homeschool, so there's really no telling how this is going to work. I'm DEFINITELY going to finish this story NO MATTER WHAT as I can't stand when someone gets me hooked in the first few chapters and then abandons the work, so never fear on that front.  
More author notes at the end.  
:D

If you asked Stiles Stilinski why he was best friends with the Mega-Asshole-Douchebag that was Scott McCall, he'd no doubt tell you something along the lines of 'he's practically my brother', but lately, in the privacy of his own head, he's been wondering the same thing.

You'd think that after everything they have been through together, Scott would at least _check up _on him, but the sad truth is, the only time he even sees Scott anymore is when he needs something - and that something always has something to do with claws, fangs, and glowing eyes that continue to haunt his nightmares. They've been dealing with this werewolf crap for long enough that he's is pretty used to being ignored until he's useful - wow, that's a horrible sentence to admit to - but it's been getting worse of late.

Derek left. Stiles had held out hope for a long time that he'd come back and fix things, but he hasn't and it's becoming increasingly obvious that he has no plan to ever do so - not that he can't truly blame him. Don't get him wrong, he tries. He tries so hard to blame him when Scott makes yet another mess that ends in someone getting hurt or even when he's laying in his bed alone wishing that this wasn't his life. But he can't. He can't blame Derek for running from a situation that he himself is starting to wish he never got himself into in the first place - especially after everything the man has been through.

Still, he could really use his help, especially in times like this, when Scott is letting Theo _F__ucking_ Raeken turn him against his best friend. 

Ever since Donovan, Scott has been even more distant that usual. Stiles has gotten multiple speeches on how he shouldn't have killed Donovan from Scott, all spurred on by Theo. It's making Stiles sick watching the person that used to mean more than anything in the whole world to him be poisoned by Theo's evilness. Today is one such day.

Scott is in the middle of one of the aforementioned speeched that Stiles isn't even paying attention to anymore, because if he does, he's definitely going to punch someone in the face. He didn't _kill_ Donovan, he was defending himself and Donovan happened to die, but Stiles can't help but idly wonder how Scott would feel if Donovan _had_ killed him.

Halfway through the speech it all becomes too much. Something snaps in him. He finds himself lucky that Scott gets a call from Kira that she needs help with the latest Big Bad that has everyone except him out the door to help her, because he was about to get up and walk out without a damn word. Instead, Scott just barks an order at him to stay there and disappears out the door - he never lets him help with these things, which is probably a good thing considering how often he gets pulled in anyways and leaves with cuts and bruises that he'll have to hide from his Dad.

Speaking of the Sheriff, he's home when Stiles gets there, which is odd. Ever since he found out about the supernatural, things have been even more strained between them. John's life was stressful enough when he thought he was just dealing with a rebellious teenager who was traumatized from him mother's absence. Now he spends his days wondering which of his cases are really supernatural and whether or not his son will come home - and what condition he'll be in when he does. Likewise, Stiles lives in constant fear that John could be hurt because of him, and that the strain of Knowing is going to make John abandon him - rationally, he knows that isn't going to happen, but still, he worries.

So, when Stiles walks in the door looking determined, John is taken aback. It's been a long time since he has seen that kind of fire in his son's eyes.

"Stiles, wha-" he starts, but Stiles beats him to it.

"Let's get the hell out of this town."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think?  
So, this is definitely going to be a long one, but I do what your input on how you think the story line should go. Right now, I'm leaning more towards a Stiles/Bucky pairing where they bond over both of them having not been in control of their bodies for a while - Nogitsune for Stiles and HYDRA for Bucky - but I could definitely be swayed to a Stiles/Steve or Stiles/Clint pairing.  
Definitely leave a comment and tell me what you think and if you like it so I can see how I'm doing so far. I'm probably going to release several chapters today, so sorry for that - but not really, cause duh. Feel free to send in requests.  
(also, I'm leaving anonymous commenting on for anyone who doesn't want their comment to be public)


	2. Thirteen days of bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and John move to New York where Stiles hacks SHIELD and makes a new friend, but how long before Scott notices he's gone?

One week later Stiles and John are unpacking their stuff into their new apartment. Stiles is still reeling from how easy it was to convince John to leave. 'Let's get out of this fucking town' he had said, to which his dad has replied with a simple 'okay' and here they are.

He thinks that it's probably because they were so tired of living in fear that something would happen to one of them, which really just makes him feel awful, but he's decided not to dwell on that.

This is a new start for them. A new city, a completely different state, and the entire fucking continental US between them and the hell-mouth that is Beacon Hills. New start, no supernatural drama.

Wow, just thinking that feels like a jinx.

Regardless, Stiles is determined to get them back to the normal life they had before werewolves, kanimas, and douchebags named Theo.

In fact, he already has a list - to which his father groaned when he informed him of this, however he couldn't help but chuckle at his son's straightforward optimism when he actually saw the list - and he plans on sticking to it.

He couldn't help but feel that it was already working as he unpacked the last of the boxes into his room. Less than twenty-four hours out of Beacon Hills and he already felt lighter, as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. For once, sitting down at the table to eat dinner with his dad is a happy affair instead of a dreaded one. They talk about sight-seeing and if Stiles is thinking about starting college this year and where they're planning on getting jobs as they eat the delicious pasta Stiles cooked for them.

For the first time in a long time, things are looking like they're actually going to work out.

*****

Yeah. No.

Three days.

That's how long they last in this blissful peace before Stiles has to go and ruin it. Three days.

In his defense, all he wanted to do was find out if the FBI knew about werewolves using the hacking skills he'd slowly perfected after realizing that he wasn't always going to be able to rely on Derek's fucking beautiful abs to get Danny to do things for them. One hour later, one thing had led to another and he was neck-deep in SHIELD files being completely astounded that, while they knew the supernatural existed, they had virtually nothing except myths and legends, none of which were true. So you'll have to forgive him for being a little to flabbergasted to notice when the black-clad figure started to ease his window open.

He did notice before they got all the way through the window, though.

"Who are you?" He asks when he looks up to see a blonde-haired guy stiffen halfway through crawling through his window and face-plant.

"Stiles," his dad calls from the other room, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Dad." He calls back, not really wanting him to barge in right now. He looks back to the guy, who now has a gun trained on him, and says, "Are you okay?"

"Some random dude crawls through your window after you hack into SHIELD and points a gun at you and that's all you have to ask?" he says incredulously, but honestly, Stiles is just surprised at the fact that someone so clumsy and covered in Band-Aids is allowed to have a gun.

"First off," Stiles starts, unable to help himself, "you did not crawl through my window, you fell - which sounded like it hurt, by the way. Second, I already asked you what your name was, but you were a little preoccupied falling through my window to answer. And third, if some random dude covered in Band-Aids got the crap scared out of him by a teenager fell through your window, wouldn't you want to make sure he's okay? I mean, come on, manners are a thing, even for SHIELD agents."

"What the fuck?"

"Dude, you're the one that fell through my window." Stiles points out, closing down his browser. "Which reminds me, my dad is home right now and we just got here after a lot of drama, so do you think we could do this tomorrow or something? I'll even like meet you somewhere if you want, but, right now is a really bad time for me."

"You want me to...what the fuck?" The blonde repeats again.

"Well, I'm going to have someone watching me for a while anyways, so I'll promise to stay away from my computer and then tomorrow, when my dad goes out to meet with some old cop friends, I'll tell him I'm going to go check out Central Park, and then we can do your thing." It does dawn on Stiles that he's probably trying to negotiate his kidnapping with a spy right about now, but he's really too far into this to chicken out here. Besides, he really does not want his Dad to know that he went looking for trouble after only three days. "I'll make you some coffee if you're the one doing the surveillance."

The coffee is what sells him.

That's how Stiles ends up walking into an interrogation cell at eleven a.m. with Spy Dude (who he's ninety-nine percent sure is actually Hawkeye), Starbucks drinks in hand the next day - yes, walking, as he somehow managed to convince Spy Dude not to knock him out (although he did put a blindfold on him until he got into the building, for Spy Dude reasons).

To his surprise, there isn't a man in a suit sitting at a table ready to interrogate him...well, there is, but there's also several very familiar faces that are all arguing amongst themselves.

Yeah, uh, the avengers are in his interrogation room.

"Stark, this is a serious security concern." A very intimidating man in a trench coat with an eyepatch says.

"No, this is the funniest thing I've seen all week." Tony Stark, who's sitting in a chair opposite the one meant for him says to the man in a very relaxed manner. He even has his feet up on the table.

"Tony." Captain America warns from where he's standing next to a man with brown hair that I'm pretty sure is Bruce Banner.

“Capsicle.” Tony says back in what is clearly a challenge as Stiles and Spy Dude enter – he’s not going to stop calling him that just because it’s been confirmed that he’s a superhero/assassin. Everyone looks up as Stiles drops into the chair across from Iron Man and puts his Starbucks cup on the metal table in front of him easily.

“This is him?” He doesn’t ask it in a condescending manner, more like he’s looking for confirmation.

“Yep.” Stiles says before Spy Dude can talk. There’s a lot of tension in the room and he’s barely managing to not break down and fangirl so hard that he can’t help but talk. “That’d be me.”

“How’d you do it?” He asks with the same hunger for knowledge that he often sees in Lydia’s eyes.

“It wasn’t that hard really,” He blushes a little, “I was just looking for some information and really, if I can get into-“

“Not that.” Tony has taken his feet off the table to analyze Stiles in full. “I can hack into SHIELD in my sleep. How did you manage to convince Barton not to take you in?”

“Oh.” He blushes ever harder. “I asked.” The whole room blanches, which makes him feel like he has to explain himself. “Well,” he starts, rubbing at the back of his neck, “my dad was home and we kinda just got over some serious drama and our relationship is sorta already on the rocks, you know, so I didn’t really want him to freak out because I got kidnapped for hacking into a sort-of-secret agency when we only just got here and all, because that would definitely make him mad at me and you have not known guilt until you have seen my dad look at you with his patented Disappointed Dad look and sat through one of his speeches on responsibility and not looking for trouble and…I’m rambling. Sorry. Anyways, I told him and asked if we could do it today as long as I stayed away from the computer since I was going to be under surveillance anyways and it’d really just be easier for everyone and then I offered to make him coffee.”

The whole room sits there in shocked silence apart from Eye Patch Guy who is glaring at Spy Guy, the Dude in the Suit who looks mildly amused, and Spy Dude himself who is blushing furiously.

“Do you want a job?” Tony asks after a long silence.

“What?”

“A job.” Tony repeats. “At Stark Industries. Do you want one?”

“Stark, this kid just hacked-“ Dude in the Suit starts but is cut off.

“Exactly.” Tony smacks the table with his hand for punctuation. “He’s just a kid and yet he managed to hack into SHIELD, which tells me that he’s got talent, and quite honestly, this is the funniest shit I’ve seen in a while, so hell yes, I’m offering him a job. Do have his file? I’d like to see his file.”

He snatches the file from the Dude in the Suit and immediately opens it and starts flicking through the papers. Everything is there from his medicine prescription the to report he did for Coach Finstock on the history of the male circumcision – which, of course, Tony picks up first.

“What did you write this for?”

He looks down at his hands and purses his lips before saying, “Economics.”

Stark barks out a laugh and mutters something under his breath that sounds like ‘masterpiece’ and continues to sift through papers and Dude in the Suit steps forward.

“How did you hack into SHIELD?” Stiles walks a pretty girl with brown hair through it as instructed, having to pause halfway in the middle of his breakdown to answer Tony’s question on ‘what the hell is a ‘stiles’?’ that he’s really way too used to and then his following question on ‘why the hell would any parent name their kid this?’ to which he gives his usual answer.

“What were you looking for?” Eyepatch Dude asks and he stiffens. He knows they’ll know if he lies, but he also knows that he can’t give Scott and the Pack away no matter how done he is.

“Werewolves.” He says, faking a calm exterior. It’s clear that he doesn’t buy it, but it makes him feel better. “I figured if anyone would know it’d be locked down tight, so I started with the FBI, then CIA, then an hour of tunnel vision later I’m knee deep in files you stole from Wikipedia.”

Tony lets out a barking laugh at that.

“Do I look like someone who’s going to buy that?”

He shrugs. “Well, you’re wearing a trench coat in July, so…you never know.”

A few more laughs.

It’s about then that Stiles decides to address the second suit guy who’s behind him that – Dude in the Suit 2, if you will – he's been watching slowly inch towards him in the reflection of his iced green tea. “Bro, if you even think about attacking me with whatever is in your hand, I will happily turn that black eye into a set.”

The figure stiffens a lot like Spy Dude did as every set of eyebrows in the room go up.

“I like him.” Tony announces. “So, how about it, kid? You want a job?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. "Why not?"

*****

John takes the news of Stiles getting a job at Stark Industries well, but then, that's because Stiles lies about how he got the job.

Stiles feels guilty, but he already had his nervous breakdown after he got home from being thoroughly interrogated in between Tony's seemingly aimless and increasing hilarious comments and questions, so he lets himself get caught up in his father's enthusiasm towards his son getting his dream job.

Needless to say, after Stiles actually wrapped his head around everything that had happened to him the day before, the nerves were going full steam ahead as he made his way into Stark Industries where a very intense man greeted him.

"Happy Hogan, nice to meet you." He offers his hand to Stiles to shake and he does. "First things first, we need to get you a ID. If you'll step this way we'll get your picture taken and fill out your NDA."

"Um, Happy," Stiles shifts slightly, "Does my first name have to go on the ID?"

"Yes." He nods. "It's company policy, why?"

"Well, it's just that my legal name is a Polish disaster that even I have trouble pronouncing and I just think it's be easier on everyone if I went by Stiles."

"It can't be that b-" Stiles scribbles down his full name down where the form asks for it and slides it over to him.

Happy pauses and does a very good goldfish impression as he opens and closes his mouth repeatedly before saying, "Maybe we can make an exception just this once."

Thank God.

Once he's signed the papers and gotten his ID, Happy leads him to the elevators where they meet Pepper Potts.

This time, Stiles definitely has a major internal freak out, because he's in an elevator with Pepper Potts.

"You must be Stiles." She offers her hand. "Tony hasn't stopped talking about you."

"Yes." He nods as he shakes her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Potts."

"Please, call me Pepper." She smiles and Stiles suddenly remember why he fell in love with Lydia in the first place. There's just something about a scarily intelligent strawberry-blonde that Stiles can't help but admire, and Pepper is no exception. "Now, not many people last long around Tony, so if you need a break, don't hesitate to ask."

"I'm sure I'll be fine." He smiles as the elevator opens, and Pepper privately hopes that he does because there's just something about him that she admires. "Well then, follow me.”

Tony's lab is Stiles' wet dream come to life. There are wires and parts everywhere, and huge glass interfaces, a holoboard and two robots.

"Oh, holy hell."

"You like?" Tony asks, and judging from the dark circle under his eyes, Stiles guesses that he hasn't gotten any sleep since he's last seen him.

"I like." He confirms.

"Can you make things, or are you just a computer guy?"

"I'm okay with my hands." He shrugs.

"Then go. Make something."

"Just like that?" Stiles asks, the same giddiness building up in his chest as when his Dad used to let him eat all the ice cream he wanted on his birthdays when he was little.

“I want to see what you can do."

They talk as they tinker with things.

Tony works on a physical prototype for some kind of non-lethal gun and Stiles adjusts a few the ideas on his holoboard to make them useful.

"So why did you really hack into SHIELD?" Tony asks after a while.

“I was looking for information on werewolves." He shrugs.

“Stiles, I've checked your search history. You've found ten-times more information on werewolves than SHIELD has and that's just the top of the list, so come on."

"I wanted to see that SHIELD knew about werewolves." Stiles says after a long silence where they both continue tinkering. "I am both relieved and horrified and the lack of information."

"So...are you-"

"No." Stiles shakes his head. "God no. But I have some friends that are, and I'd really appreciate if you kept that to yourself.”

"Your secret's safe with me.”

Being around Tony should have turned Stiles into a blubbering mess, after all, he's sitting across from his idol trading 'my best friend did something stupid' stories as they work on the most cutting edge tech known to man.

Instead, Stiles is more relaxed than he has been in a while. He finds the eccentric billionaire's presence to be almost grounding, in a way, and it's pretty clear that he feels the same, because neither of them even notice the passage of time at all, unlike Pepper, who stops in at seven p.m. to call them up to eat Chinese with her before she sends Stiles home for the day.

They promise to be there in just a moment, but they never even make it out of the lab.

"How are they even still alive?" Steve asks three days later as he stands in the doorway of the lab watching the two brunettes work in mild horror.

"I don't know." Natasha says, holding a large bowl of popcorn in her lap. "I've been here for an hour an from what I gather, the kid is trying to make the Bob Hoskins gun out of Roger Rabbit and Tony is insisting that the kid can't code bullets. I think Stark is losing."

Stiles and Tony can hear them, but while their words are registering, they're too deep to even care.

"Dear God, there's two of them." Steve mutters.

"There's no way!" Tony exclaims.

"Fucking watch me!" Stiles shouts back, not at all angry, more like gleeful.

"Jarvis, when was the last time they slept?" Pepper asks worriedly.

"Mr. Start took has accidentally fallen asleep twice in the last thirty-nine hours." The AI's toneless voice informs them. "Stiles has not slept since he arrived and I had to cut off his coffee intake two hours ago. They don't seem to notice the passage of time."

"Jesus Christ."

"Did Jarvis just use his first name?"

"Tony, it's time for Stiles to get so-"

"Oh my god!" Tony shouts. "You just! Did you just? He just! Pepper, we're keeping him!"

"Dude," Stiles shouts back. "I'm so staying!"

For a moment they almost jump up and down like children, but instead he turns back to the hologram and Tony runs to get a prototype started.

"Oh, for the love of-"

"Stiles, you have an incoming call." Jarvis says before Pepper can step in and demand that they stop to sleep.

"Tell my dad I'm fine please." He says dismissively, not even looking up from the holoboard.

"It's Scott McCall." Ice runs through his veins and all the blood drains out of his already pale face. Several people shift like they think they might have to catch him when he passes out, but he doesn't. Instead he steels himself and says, "Decline his calls please. I think I need to take a nap."

"Of course, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think so far? Right now I'm living for Best Friend/Unofficial Dad Tony Stark. Those two together are just too pure for this world. The next chapter is going to be a little heavier with some serious angst and probably PTSD, but I'll make sure to put warnings at the beginning.


	3. Scott McCall ruins everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles feels. All the Stiles feels.  
Stiles three days of caffeine-fueled heaven in Tony's lab come to a screeching halt when Scott calls and reminds him that shit sucks. Plus post-nogitsune feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super angsty and depressing, so definitely do not read if that triggers you. This is your official warning. There is some PTSD and accidental self-harm in this chapter, so please please please check the tags just in case.

He didn't sleep. Not really.

He just laid on the overstuffed couch in Tony’s lab with his back turned and his eyes closed to keep the worried crowd from talking to him.

He had been having such a great time with Tony. It was the first time in a long time that he had been relaxed enough to just lose himself in his company.

So of course Scott had to call.

He had known this was coming. Eventually even Scott would notice his absence, he just hadn’t counted on just how bad it’d make him feel.

He doesn’t feel guilty about leaving with a warning. No, he’s more upset that it took Scott this long to even realize he was gone, especially considering that they hadn’t even talked since that day Stiles decided to leave.

He snuck a glance at his phone when the worried crowd had cleared a bit. He’d been at the lab for three days. That means that Scott hadn’t checked in in thirteen.

This piece of information – while it’s the emotional equivalent of someone stabbing him in the gut and twisting the knife – only solidifies the belief that he was right to leave Scott and Beacon Hills behind him. But…he can’t help but miss a few of them.

Isaac.

Erica.

Boyd.

Lydia.

They’re probably so angry with him for leaving without warning them first. After all, in Derek’s absence, Stiles had become friends with the abandoned betas that had been left behind. And Lydia considered herself to be his best friend no matter how annoyed with him or busy she was.

Stiles can’t help but feel a heaviness in his chest when he thinks about how he left them behind. Just like Derek.

Yeah. Okay.

That hurts.

He isn’t really sure how long he lays like that, but eventually, Jarvis speaks. “Stiles, you have an incoming call from someone named Boyd.”

“Jarvis, let him sleep.” Pepper scolds, but Stiles is already sitting up and dragging a hand over his face.

“I’ll take it.” He says quietly, a heavy weight having settled on his shoulders.

He’s surprised that it’s Boyd calling. He figured it’d be Isaac in tears or Lydia to yell at him, not Boyd – quiet, calm Boyd that was much more content to simply be there, and Stiles had always appreciated his tranquil presence.

“Hello?”

“Stiles?” Boyd asks with a slightly sad tone to his voice.

“Yeah.” He says quietly, knowing Boyd will pick it up.

“Are you okay?” He doesn’t ask it like he thinks something horrible has happened to Stiles. It’s really more like he’s asking if he needs a hug.

“Yeah.” Stiles says back, just as somber.

“Okay.” He can practically see Boyd nodding, and even though it’s just a phone call, he can sort of feel that tranquility that radiates from him. “Call every now and then, for the others. Okay?”

“Okay.” There are tears building in his eyes, turning the worried figures at the edges of his vision into colorful blurs. “I will.”

“Oh, and Stiles? It’s okay. We get it.”

“Thank you.” It comes out a broken, warbling whisper so quiet that he’s sure that even Boyd’s ears won’t have picked it up, but Boyd doesn’t seem to need it, because he ends the call then and Stiles finally breaks down in tears.

He slides all the way to the floor with his head between his knees and sobs quietly. Pepper comes to rub a soothing hand through his hair, but neither her nor Tony say anything or interrupt him.

Once he’s cried all his tears and Pepper has coaxed some food into him, he heads home for the day.

His dad is very alarmed to see him return home with splotchy cheeks and a hoarse voice.

“Son, are you okay?”

“Not really.” He admits, not seeing any point in denying it. “Sorry for staying at the lab so long.”

“It’s okay, son.” The sheriff assures him. “Ms. Potts assured me that you were okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now.” He shakes his head. “I think I’m just going to go get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

In his room he takes out his phone and finally answers Scott’s next call.

“What the hell, Stiles!” Scott yells so loud that Stiles has to put the phone down on the bed next to him to avoid having his ear drums shattered.

“Hi Scott.” He says tiredly. An exhaustion has set in so bone deep that Stiles barely has the energy to even take his shoes off before he crawls under the covers fully clothed.

“That’s all you have to say???” Scott snarls. “I went by your house to check on you only to find some chick living in it who said that you moved ACROSS THE FREAKING COUNRTY!!!!! Then you spend all day dodging my calls and all you have to say is _‘hi Scott’_?”

“What do you want me to say?” Stiles sighs.

“How about an explanation?”

On any other day, a comment like that would have Stiles putting Scott in his place, but today, he can’t be bothered. “I was tired of your crap.” He shrugs even though Scott can’t see it. “I moved. What more is there to say?”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME STILES?”

“Nope.”

“How could you just leave?” He demands, and Stiles thinks he might actually detect some pain under all that Alpha Rage. “We were your _Pack_! I’m your best friend and you didn’t even bother to tell me.”

“Can you really blame me, Scott? I mean, with the way you treat me, it’s a wonder I even lasted that long.”

Scott starts to protest, but Stiles really just wants this over, so he continues.

“I don’t even understand why you’re yelling. You’re the one that didn’t notice I was gone until it was too late. What was it that tipped you off? Did you finally notice the pack bond break? It was so faint in the first place, you probably didn’t even feel it, did you? Or did you just need something? You probably tried to climb through my window in the middle of the night to demand that I help you sort out whatever problem that you no doubt created for yourself. How far did you get before you noticed I wasn’t there?”

“You know what this means then?” Scott asks in a shaky voice, completely ignoring everything he had just said.

_Bull's-eye. _

“That I’m not Pack?” Stiles guesses. “I don’t think I’m really going to lose that much sleep over it, Scotty. We both know I never was in the first place.”

The silence that follows that is deafening. At least Scott has the common sense not to argue that fact.

“I’m going to bed now. You can stop calling.”

“You were my brother, Stiles.” Scott whines low, finally having burned off all the anger.

“Then maybe you should have paid more attention to your family, Scott.”

If Stiles had anymore energy, he’d be screaming or maybe hitting the walls, instead the exhaustion finally overtakes him, and he slips into a troubled sleep.

*****

Nightmare, of course. Because he hasn’t been through enough emotional torture today.

_Run. Faster! FASTER! HURRY! Too late._

_Stiles can’t see a thing as he tries his best to run from his assailant. He knows it’s useless, the Demon Fox will always find him, but he runs anyways. _

_The very forest seems to be putting up a fight. The thick leaves blot out all traces of sunlight, the thin branches snag on his clothes and cut at his skin, the roots stick out of the ground at every possible foothold, sending him sprawling to the ground. _

_He’s more crawling than running at this point, but the tell-tale sounds of his pursuer propel him forwards. _

_He runs in what must be circles until he’s bleeding and exhausted. His legs are made of lead. His lungs are filled with sand. His whole body aches with pain._

_Finally, the darkness relents. The forest pulls back to reveal a beautiful clearing filled with buttery sunlight and vibrant wildflowers. _

_The shockingly beautiful scene before him instills more fear in him than the dark, dangerous woods ever could. He’s had this dream before. He knows what happens here. _

_Still, he tries to run, tries to escape what’s coming. _

_“You can’t outrun me.” A chillingly familiar voice says, and Stiles knows he’s defeated. He turns to face the figure with dread filling his veins like ice-water. “I’m in your head, remember?” _

_“NO.” He shakes his head, clamping his hands over his ears to protect himself from the poisonous words that leave him shaking in fear for hours after he finally manages to drag himself back to consciousness. “No, you can’t be. You’re gone. You’re gone. You’re gone.” _

_“No, Stiles.” The nogitsune’s words find him anyways. “I’m a part of you now. Surely, you’ve noticed the gift I left behind.” _

_As if on cue a fire ignites on Stiles’ skin that spreads until it engulfs the entire clearing. He doesn’t need to watch to know what’s happening._

_The flowers burn. The smoke forms thick, dark clouds that blot out the sun. And now, screams. _

_He can’t help but hear them, but he’s trying so hard to wake. _

_“Stiles!” _

_“Stiles, help us!” _

_“Stiles, don’t let us burn!” _

_“Stiles!” _

_“Well, go on.” The Nogitsune says calmly as he watches the scene before him. Invisible hands force Stiles to his feet and his hands by his side to watch the horrifying scene unfold before him. “Save them. If this really is just a dream, surely you can’t take control. Wake yourself up, Stiles. Make their suffering end.” _

_He watches his friends burn with tears streaming down his face. “Why won’t you just leave me alone? Haven’t you taken enough from me?!” _

_“Oh, Stiles.” The Demon Fox chuckles. “I never took anything from you. You did that. Remember? It was your hands that killed Allison. Aiden. You blew those people up. And now, you’re burning your friends. I wonder who you’ll kill after that? Maybe Mrs. McCall? Your father? Or what about the new ones? Tony? Pepper? Clearly they care about you. If only that knew how dangerous that really was.” _

_Broken pleas fall from his lips as he is forced to watch his friends drop one by one, tortured by the flames he’s creating. “Stop it. Please. Stopitstopitstopit. I didn’t kill them. I didn’t hurt them. It wasn’t me. I didn’t mean to.” _

_“Stiles!” Scott pleads, the last one standing. He reaches for his best friend, but Stiles can’t move to him. _

_“Wake up.” He digs his hands into his sides, but to no avail. “Wake up, Stiles. Please. Wake up.” _

“Stiles, wake up.”

_“You can’t wake up, Stiles.” The Nogitsune whispers in his ear as the ground starts to shake violently. “You can never wake up.”_

“Stiles. Wake. Up.” His eyes fly open with a gasp and he immediately attacks the figure leaning over him.

“Why won’t you just die?” He cries and lashes out until strong, rough hands catch his carefully.

“Stiles, it’s me.” Stiles stops to see a familiar blonde figure looking at him with apprehension in his eyes. He sags in relief as he shrinks away from his touch. Clint flips on the lamp next to him and Stiles gasps.

“Did I hurt you?” Clint’s face and shirt are covered in blood.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s your blood, Stiles.”

He looks down and nearly screams out his next sob. His hands are covered in dark blood. He yank at the nearest piece of fabric – his shirt – until it rips in half to scrub the blood off his hands, but it doesn’t really do anything. “I need to get it off. I won’t come off.”

“Stiles. Stiles. Calm down. We can wash your hands.”

“I need to get it off, Clint.” He pleads.

The next thing he knows he’s sitting in the bottom of his shower with icy water running over him. He just sits there, crying, as he scrubs at his hands until long after the blood has been washed down the drain.

“Stiles, what was that?”

“You never have nightmares?” Clint is sitting on the edge of the tub, getting soaked from the showerhead, but he doesn’t seem to care much.

“Of course I do. But mine don’t usually leave me clawing holes into my skin.”

He looks down and for the first time actually registers where the blood was coming from. He had dug his fingers into the sides of his stomach while he was trying to wake himself up. He vaguely notes the sting of the water hitting the ugly marks but is too numb to really care.

He just shrugs.

When he finally get out of the tub, the water has gotten hot and then ran cold all over again and he’s shivering in his soaked jeans and blood-stained remnants of his shirt. He changes, not really caring if Clint sees him naked right now and lets himself get pulled back into the bathroom to get bandaged up.

“How often does this happen?” Spy Dude has thankfully wiped the blood of his face so that Stiles can look at him without cringing away now.

“The nightmares? Only when I sleep.” That one earns him a very unimpressed look. “I’ve only hurt myself twice before. Both were accidents. Look, I don’t need your pity. This isn’t a new thing and meeting you hasn’t suddenly turned me into some helpless child.”

“I didn’t say I pitied you.” That draws him up short. “Empathetic? Yes. Worried? Yes. But pitying? No.”

“Empathetic.” Stiles scoffs. “Big word there, Spy Dude.”

Clint just rolls his eyes as he smoothes the last bandage down. “There you go. Do you, um…do…do you need anything?”

“No.” He sighs. “It’s not like I’m going back to sleep any time soon. You can stay if you want. Surveillance on a teenager must be boring. The most interesting thing we do is jack off.”

Clint scoffs but sits in Stiles’ computer chair while he replaces the sheets on his bed. “Sure, I’ll stay. Wait a second, did you just call me ‘Spy Dude’?”

“Yes, yes, I did.” He huffs, ignoring the heat in his face at being called out on that. He had hoped he wouldn’t notice. “What?” He asks at the incredulous look he gets. “You fell through my window and the first though that popped into my head was ‘aren’t spy dudes supposed to be graceful?’ so, Spy Dude. If it makes you feel better there is also Eye Patch Guy, Dude in the Suit, and Dude in the Suit 2. No need for applause, I know I’m a creative genius.”

Clint mutters something under his breath that makes Stiles grin as he plops down on his fresh sheets. “You might as well get some sleep or something.” He tells him as he pulls out his phone, ignoring the texts and missed calls from Scott. “At least one of us should be able to function like an actual human being in the morning.”

“Who said I was human?” Clint asks as he cautiously lays down next to where he’s sitting. “I happen to be a cyborg from the future that’s here to destroy you so that you never become the leader of the human resistance.”

“Okay, Terminator.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “Go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a short chapter, but this literally almost killed me to write. I hate making my characters suffer (even if it is necessary for the story line).  
Everyone in the comments has been so sweet and encouraging and I appreciate that so much, you have no idea what that means to me and I just want to say a big thanks to everyone that left a comment.  
So far everyone agrees that they want to see a Stiles/Bucky pairing which makes me SO happy because there is not enough to them out there. To everyone that is anxiously waiting for Bucky to show up and sweep Stiles off his feet with his Tall Dark and Brooding charm, all in good time.  
In the mean time, I threw in a little bit of Clint bring a bro because that is honestly the only thing that got me through this chapter.  
I'm trying to get out at least two chapters a day before school starts back up, so I might have chapter four done by tonight, but I promise that either way, it'll be a little less angsty.  
XOXO  
(also, sorry for the little errors here and there, this is not beta read and my eyes can only take so much before the words start mushing together)


	4. please don't let that be a jinx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the horrible day and night he had, Stiles finally starts to settle into the new brand of crazy that is his life with the Avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took WAY too long for me to write - I blame the two raccoons currently being assholes on my front porch at 2:30 in the fucking morning - but I am happy with how it turned out.  
The appearance of 'Unofficial Mom Pepper Potts' always brightens my day, and I finally have and excuse to address my love for Thor and his Asgardian Quirkiness.  
Again, I just want to say a huge thanks to everyone that left comments and suggestions! I was seriously giggling when I read some of them - and by giggling I mean making dying walrus sounds at two in the morning while my family is trying to sleep - they really made me smile and helped me keep going through what felt like and incredibly slow chapter.  
XOXO babes

The next day, Clint walks carefully into the kitchen after checking to make sure that John wasn’t home while he’s cooking breakfast and humming the Mario Bros theme song, completely stuck in his own little world.

So of course he jumps out of his skin when he turns around to see the blonde-haired man standing in his kitchen watching him with an amused expression.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” He yells, throwing the bright red spatula he’s holding at an unsuspecting Clint – who catches it, much to his chagrin. “WILL YOU MAKE SOME FUCKING NOISE WHEN YOU MOVE??? ARE YOU _TRYING_ TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK?”

“Stop shouting.” Clint says as he returns the spatula and moves to the coffee machine. “I’m deaf, but not that deaf.” Stiles would have stopped and asked questions, like how had the bright purple hearing aids completely slipped his notice up until now, expect he was distracted by Clint picking up the coffee pot and drinking straight from it.

“did you just…I fucking can’t. It’s seven in the fucking morning, you can’t just _drink straight from the coffee pot_ and expect me to deal with that shit.” Clint just shrugs. “You’re cleaning that when you’re done.” Clint shrugs again.

The list of Thing Stiles Can’t Deal With At Seven A.M. gets a little longer as Natasha Romanov practically dances through his front door with the weird fluid way she moves, snags the spatula from Stiles’ hand and flips the omelet he was cooking over before it can burn.

“Wow, I wasn’t aware that I put up a sign that said, ‘Spy Bros welcome’ last night, but okay. Good morning to you to, Natasha.”

“Why does she get to be Natasha, but I’m Spy Dude?” Clint asks as he continues drinking the scalding coffee straight from the container.

“Because she looks like she could kill me with a look whereas when I first met you, you fell face-first through my window.” Natasha makes a noise of assent as she serves up the omelet for him.

“Tony sent me to get blackmail pictures of you passed out in Stiles’ bed.” She informs them in a very nonchalant manner as she takes the container from Clint long enough to pour herself a cup of coffee before he reclaims it with a grumpy look. “Pepper sent me to make sure you got food and sleep.”

“I thought I saw something out my window.” He nods. “Honestly I was too deep in Wikipedia to notice.” He blushes a little as he remembers how long he spent reading the entire entry on the Indian Rebellion of 1857 because it was mentioned in an article he had somehow ended up reading on rice.

Not one of his finest ADHD moments, but definitely not his worst.

“So, uh, not that I don’t love hanging out with the world’s deadliest assassins and all, because I do, really, this is great, but I’m pretty sure that my Dad won’t feel the same when he walks through the door in twelve seconds, so…”

They’re gone just like that, the only sign they were ever here is the empty coffee pot and red spatula that are now sitting in his sink. John walks in exactly twelve seconds later, arms full of groceries. “Wow, you’re up early.”

“Yep.” Stiles nods as he scarfs down his egg-white and spinach omelet.

“You want to talk about yesterday now?”

“Scott called.” Stiles shrugs, the food in his mouth suddenly not appetizing at all. He forces it down anyways and puts his empty plate in the sink along with the spatula and coffee pot. “He’s angry. Not really anything he can do about it now.”

“And last night?” He stiffens.

Crap.

“Bad dream. I’m over it.”

“I saw your sheets in the wash.”

Double crap.

“Can we talk about this later?” He asks, shifting from foot to foot nervously. “I’m going to be late.”

“Stiles-“

“Later. Dad. Please.”

John sighs, but lets his son go.

“Not a word.” He says a few minutes later when Natasha and Clint join him on his walk to work.

“Understood.” Clint nods.

*****

Apparently, his little emotional meltdown yesterday really scared Pepper, because she intercepts him before he even makes it to the lab to go out for food and shopping. “Do I have a choice?” He asks Clint.

“No.” All three of them answer.

“The lead the way.”

Shopping with Pepper is actually pretty fun. She takes him to a lot of very high-end stores where he pointedly ignores the price tags so that he doesn’t have a stroke as she helps him restock his wardrobe.

He had left a lot of his things in Beacon Hills because most of it belong to Scott and he didn’t really want to be walking around in Alpha Werewolf Scent in unknown territory – also there was the small matter of him being entirely done with Scott’s existence as a whole, so yeah, new clothes.

“Lydia would be crying right now.” He laughs as they stop to eat Italian ice at an outdoor café.

“Who’s Lydia?”

“Huh?” He asks, not realizing that he said that out loud. “Oh. She’s only the most awesome person in the entire universe. She’s stupid smart. Razor sharp wit. Impeccable fashion sense. You remind me a lot of her actually.”

Pepper beams at him. “Why would she be crying?”

“Well, she adores you, for one.” He smiles fondly. “But this – shopping in New York with one of the most intelligent women in the world – is her wildest dream come true. She’d be a very attractive puddle on the ground right now.”

Pepper laughs musically at that. “Well she sounds wonderful.”

“She is.” He says, a sudden pang in his chest as he realizes just how much his misses his Freckles. “I miss her a lot, actually.”

“It must be hard, being so far away from your friends.”

“Sort of. I kind of left to get away from my friends, but there are a few that I really miss.”

“Tell me about them.”

Stiles is taken aback by her genuine interest and finds himself describing each and every one of them to her in extreme detail, the flavored ice left abandoned on the table between them.

He talks about Boyd.

“…he’s really quiet, so when he does speak, everyone just kind of listens. But really, he’s great. There’s just something about being around him that’s just…grounding, you know…”

And Erica.

“…perfect. Confident now. She didn’t used to be, but once she found us, she kind of grew into herself. Drop dead gorgeous. The very definition of a blonde bombshell, but more than that. Funny. Protective…”

Isaac.

“…too cute for his own good. Honestly, I think I miss him the most. He’s so kind and good. He’s been through so much and yet he’s such a happy person. Sometimes I swear he’s part puppy. You should see the smile. That smile could get him away with murder, I swear…”

It goes on and on until he’s even telling her about Derek.

“…Sourwolf is just…an idiot. A ridiculously perfect, stupidly attractive, frustratingly monosyllabic idiot. He tried so hard, after everything that’s happened to him, to still do good and be there for everyone. I honestly don’t know how he even got out of bed in the mornings, but he did. He was there even when Scott was acting like a self-righteous five-year-old. He was always there...”

“You love him.” It’s not a question, but it still takes him by surprise.

“I do.” He nods. “But not like that. At first, sure, I mean, if you could see him, you’d get it. Then I got to know him, and I realized that I didn’t just want him as someone I could obsess over like I had with Lydia before we really chilled out. I wanted him as a friend. That’s probably why it hurt so much when he left. But yeah, I love him. Just like I love Erica and Isaac and Lydia and Boyd. I always will.”

“You’re a good person, Stiles.” Pepper says after a long, not uncomfortable, silence.

“You don’t know me well enough to say that yet, Pepper.”

“I don’t need to. I can hear it in the way you talk about them.” He doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything. After a while, she speaks again. “You and Tony, well, quite frankly, the two of you are a match made if hell. If the last few days have shown me anything, it’s that I should probably never let the two of you within a fifty-mile radius of each other ever again. But…you understand each other, you work well together, and you clearly enjoy each other’s company, so I’m not going to do that. But I need you to promise that you’ll take better care of yourself, Stiles. You can’t go three days with no sleep anymore. It’s bad for you and I really don’t want to be the one to call your father and tell him that you’re in the hospital for malnutrition or sleep-depravation, he seems like a very nice man.”

“I promise, Pepper.” He smiles softly.

“How about we head back, yeah? Someone needs to make sure Tony hasn’t burned the place down yet.”

Stiles can’t help but laugh at that.

Tony hasn’t burn SI down yet, but there is a fair amount of smoke coming from his current prototype.

Really though, the smoke is less alarming than blur that is Clint and Natasha wrestling in the floor.

Oh, did she just bite him? Ouch.

“That did not look pleasant.” A booming voice remarks and he turns to see _Thor_ standing next to Bruce Banner who is observing the two with a nervous look on his face.

For someone who turns into a giant green rage monster, Banner is very skittish.

“I’m going to have to agree with you there.” He shakes his head.

“Ah, you must be Stiles!” The mass of blonde muscles that is Thor moves to clap him on the back hard enough to almost send him flying as way of greeting. “The man of iron has told me much about you!”

“Yeah, that’s me.” He smiles, feeling a little star-struck, but not so much that he can’t help but feel endeared towards the Asgardian’s enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you. Hey, are those Pop-Tarts?”

“Yes, have you tried them?” He looks like he could bounce up and down as he thrusts the box towards Stiles. “You Midgardians craft some of the tastiest treats!”

“I suppose we do.” He smiles as he takes one of the silver packages out of the box.

“Stiles! Good, you’re here! Come look at this before my brain explodes!”

“No, Tony, you’re taking a break and we’re all going out to dinner.” Pepper says firmly.

“Pep, this is more important than dinner. This is, this is huge. Think-“

“Think if you’re not in the car in the next ten minutes, I will have Jarvis cut off your coffee supply.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.” The strawberry blonde answers back evenly.

“Alright, you heard the woman. Pack it up. Romanov, Legolas, off the floor. You weren’t raised by wolves for heaven’s sake. Thor, buddy, have you ever had Chinese food? It’s magical, really.”

Stiles can’t help but roll his eyes at Tony’s antics as he lets himself be led out the building surrounded by the people he’s worshipped his entire life.

*****

Dinner with the Avengers is entertaining to say the least.

The Spy Bros – Stiles is okay calling them that when referencing both of them, but he still refuses to give Natasha a quirky nickname yet – constantly have some kind of competition going on that at one point ended with a bet on who could throw a knife – which was definitely something they had brought with them and not a piece of cutlery - through a roll - which he has no idea where they got because they're at a _Chinese _restaurant - midair and get it to stick to the wall in the center of a framed modern art piece that Tony ended up having to pay to replace.

Thor was overly enthusiastic about every piece of food he tried and completely astounded by the concept of chopsticks. He went through four pairs before Natasha used the hair-band trick to help him. He praised her endlessly for this.

Bruce supplied fascinating conversation for him and Tony and seemed to really make an effort to try an include him in it despite him not being quite on their level.

Pepper just tried to keep the damage to a minimum.

The highlight of the night, however, is when Steve shows up still in full Captain America gear and Thor insists that they all take a picture to post on twitter – which someone named Darcy had recently introduced him to.

Stiles can already feel himself getting comfortable here.

Everyone is great and actually _likes_ him, and he likes them too.

It already feels so natural to just fall into rhythm with them – so much so, that he doesn’t even question it when Clint _and_ Natasha climb in through his window and crawl into bed with him right before he falls asleep.

He does note, before he drifts off, the irony that he prefers deadly assassins crawling through his window to teenage werewolves.

Oh well, we all knew he was a weird magnet.

(yeah okay, I’m pretty sure that one was a jinx)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I feel like I should apologize for this being such a short chapter. I'm hoping that as I get into it, it'll be a little easier for me to really get into it. It took me forever to finish this one, but on the bright side, I beat five levels of Candy Crush and finally scared off the raccoons, so yay!  
I do want to update you guys on a few things.  
First off I have decided that this is going to be a Bucky/Stiles pairing as that is what I had originally planned and that seems to be what everyone wants to read. However, this means I need to pair off a few of the others and I am definitely open to suggestions.  
Second I want to address that this is probably going to be a slow burn, simply because I'm bad a writing romance and both Stiles and Bucky are major idiots. So be prepared.  
And finally I want to ask you guys what you think about Derek making a reappearance maybe after Bucky is introduced - which I promise will be soon.  
So far I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the amazing comments and encouragements you guys have left. It really means so much to me. Please keep sharing your opinions as I love hearing them, and I'll see you tomorrow with another chapter!  



	5. that was such a fucking jinx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles totally jinxed himself when he called himself a weird magnet. Now there's Doombots involved and some unwanted side-effects left over from the Nogitsune that leave Stiles in a coma for a week. But with his friends waiting for him when he wakes up along with the sudden appearance of Hot Mystery Guy, maybe things will be okay? Either way the truth is starting to come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I said that I was going to start writing longer chapters soon, but today has been a very long day. I'm really sorry for making you guys was to late for the latest chapter and that it's so short, but my computer and I are in the middle of a very serious fight that I appear to be losing.   
A big thanks to everyone that commented and gave me suggestions!! You guys are great and have such creative ideas that I'd absolutely love to incorporate into the story, and while this chapter was pretty sad and angsty (my apologies for that), I did set it up so that next chapter we will get to see the Dynamic Duo of Badass Redheads in action as well as Stiles' reunion with his friends in full (bonus points if I can cram in Stiles telling John about how he may have accidentally been adopted by the Avengers in there too). Until then I hope you guys like this one and I promise that he next chapter will contain as little angst as possible.   
xoxo babes

Stiles is a jinx.

This is not news to anyone, but still, there are sometimes when even he surprises himself at just how much the universe hates him.

He hadn’t even said it out loud.

And yet, here he is, sighing resignedly as what seems like all of the Weird Shit on the planet finds little ol’ him as he and Steve are leaving a concert on Saturday night.

All he wanted to do was introduce Steve to some modern music.

But no. That obviously wasn't what was going to happen.

Do you know what was going to happen?

Doombots.

Because what else?

Steve immediately launches into battle, shouting an order for Stiles to get somewhere safe, which Stiles promptly ignored when one of the Doombots tried to attack a young woman and her baby.

He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but one second he’s swinging at the Doombot, the next his hand smashes all the way through it’s face.

No. No. NO.

He doesn’t want this! He doesn’t want whatever the fuck this shit is that the Nogitsune left behind - powers he doesn’t understand and can’t control.

He doesn’t get any time to compose himself before the next Doombot attacks. Every time he punches straight through the bots or rips and limb off their bodies, he can hear the Nogitsune in his head saying horrible things just like in his dreams.

He tears the head off of one.

_“You’ll burn them all.” _ A flash of his pack burning in that damn clearing that he sees in his dreams.

He uses the arm of one to hit the next, sending it flying.

_“I told you, you’ll never escape me.”_

With every Bot destroyed, Stiles gets closer and closer to curling in on himself and screaming until it drowns out the sound of that chilling voice. It’s too much like his nightmares. Too much like when it was in control.

At least this time when he comes back to himself, the bodies surrounding him are metal one instead of his family and friends. At least this time, when he’s drowning in the fear and helplessness, he knows that once he finally stops struggling and lets the water in, the pain will stop too.

*****

He wakes up, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath as he lashes out at the unfamiliar figure leaning over him.

“Stiles!”

“Stiles, it’s okay.”

“Stiles?” Isaac’s hesitant voice is what finally snaps him out of it.

He stills and takes a deep breath as he tries to focus on the things around him. When he finally does, he has the breath knocked out of him all over again.

There’s a guy leaning over him, pinning his wrists in his hands – one of which his scorching hot and the other cold and hard like metal – but that isn’t what captures his attention.

This guy is fucking hot.

Dark brown hair that falls around his jaw-line – which looks like it’s been chiseled from stone, just like the rest of him – perfectly even, strong features, eyes so blue that he can’t look away, and yeah, he’s got a stubble beard going too.

So, he has a type? Sue him.

The guy seems to realize that he’s still holding Stiles to the bed, but all at once he’s gone, almost on the other side of the room before Stiles can even blink.

Okay. Weird.

He sits up and looks around, still shaking off the last of his nightmares. He pauses as he takes in the hospital scene before him.

Everyone is here. The whole lot of them.

Tony, Pepper, Steve, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, and even Thor. Pair that with his Dad, Lydia, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Hot Mystery Dude and he’s sure he’s about to have a lot of explaining to do.

“Stiles, how are you feeling?”

“What happened?”

“We’re not sure.” Steve admits, looking concern and guilty. “One minute we were walking back from the concert and then Doombots were attacking. I told you to hide, but when I turned back around you were unconscious and there were Bots littered all around you.”

Stiles frowns as it all comes rushing back to him. He wants to throw up and cry all at the same time.

“How long was I out?”

“A week.” Tony says. He looks awful.

Stiles blanches.

“We thought…” Isaac starts, but isn’t able to finish. Stiles opens his arms and reaches for him and the blonde wolf needs no more encouragement than that to bury his face in Stiles’ neck and just stay there.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers low enough that none of the human ears will pick it up. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Stiles,” Isaac whispers back into his ear, “was this-“

“He’s gone.” He assures the beta in his arms, but one look at the rest of them tells him that they’ve been worrying too. “He’s gone.”

“Why don’t we get the doctors in here and get you something to eat, huh?” Pepper suggests, running a hand over his hair affectionately.

He nods.

His doctors are a guy and a girl who are both _very_ young. They were introduced as Fitz-Simmons, but he’s not sure which one is Fitz and which one is Simmons. “So, what’s wrong with me?” He asks them hesitantly.

“Well, that’s the thing.” The girl starts.

“We have no idea.” The boy finishes.

“The only thing that seemed to be odd were the, um, well the marks.” He nods once and ignores all the confused faces. The only ones who understand are Clint and Natasha, and he’d like to leave it that way. “Other than that, and the apparent signs of insomnia, you’re perfectly healthy.”

“Yes, how much sleep have you been getting?”

“Enough.” He says shortly as someone puts a plate off food in front of them. He starts eating it without actually tasting it, his stomach just happy to have food. “Why?”

“Well that could have something to do with how long you were unconscious.” The boy says. “But it would have to be very severe for your body to need rest badly enough to put you in a coma.”

“Although, that coupled with the nightmares and the stress of a sudden physical attack may explain it.” Stiles has a feeling that she’s not really talking to him anymore.

“Nightmares?” He doesn’t want to ask, but he does.

Expressions all around the room darken.

Isaac squeezes his hand reassuringly, but there’s little good it can do at this point.

He’s been out for a week. A week of nightmares. Of Stiles thrashing around in his sleep, maybe even screaming. At least there are no new wounds to his sides – that’d be really hard to explain.

The mood lightens a little once Fitz-Simmons tell him to come back if he feels light-headed or wrong in any way but give him the clean bill of health.

He gets hugs from everyone.

Erica explains that they flew in once he stopped answering calls and have been here ever since.

Stiles has a minor heart-attack when his dad promises him that they’re going to be having a very long conversation on his new friends and how he came by them. Then he has a major one when he sees Pepper, Natasha, and Lydia bonding.

“Oh, that’s so not good.” He says to no one in particular.

“You have no idea.” Boyd mutters back.

Yep. He’s screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a while to write despite it being so short for so many reasons, but the biggest one was me trying to figure out ways to put all of your amazing ideas (that I am so grateful for) into the next chapters.   
I'm hoping that this turned out okay, because at this point I think that I've read it too many times to even absorb information anymore. I'm not going to be putting out another chapter today because quite frankly my eyes hurt and there is really only so much coffee a human being can drink to keep them awake before they burn a whole in their stomach and I am not keen on finding that limit any time soon.   
Hopefully tomorrow will go a little smoother after I've gotten some sleep and given my hands a break.   
Again I want to thank everyone that leaves me comments, you guys seriously are so sweet and wonderful that I really can't even express how much it means to me.   
See you tomorrow babes.


	6. the truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wakes up after the fight with the Doombots to find himself surrounded by friends - old an new. Finally fessing up to the truth about what he's been going through, Stiles finds empathy and love where he was expecting disappointment and anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I feel like I'm bombarding you guys with sad shit. I had completely intended for this chapter to be much longer, but round two of Baby versus Demonic Laptop goes to Demonic Laptop once again. There definitely some feels in this one, but I tried to make it as happy as possible, but it is a ridiculously short chapter (my apologies).  
Don't forget to send me ideas for background pairings in the comments, you guys have been so creative up until this point!  
(please forgive the spelling mistakes, my eyes are mad at me for spending so much time on the computer and they're revolting against me)  
xoxo babes

“I’m sorry.” They’re laying in Stiles’ bed now that he was finally allowed to go home – it took a lot of convincing Pepper to even let him out of her sight.

“For what?” Isaac asks.

When they got back to the apartment John had to go back to work so the five of them all collapsed into one big puppy pile where he let himself be scented to the point that it was kind of ridiculous – he would have protested if he hadn’t missed it so much.

“Everything.” His voice cracks audibly. “Scaring you like that. Leaving. I never said goodbye.”

“Stiles,” Lydia takes his hand, “If you had stopped to tell us you were leaving, would you have actually been able to do it? To look us in the eye, tell us goodbye, and then leave Beacon Hills?”

“No.”

“Then why are you apologizing?”

“All we have ever wanted for you is to be happy and safe.” Erica tells him softly. “You couldn’t have that back home. Not with Scoot and Theo and all of the bad memories. You can have that here.”

“But I left you guys.”

Isaac whimpers and shakes his head where it’s buried in Stiles’ neck. Isaac doesn’t like it when he cries, he never has.

He runs his fingers through Isaac’s hair to calm him.

“The only way you could have made us angry with you, Stiles, is if you had stayed because of us.” Boyd surprises him with that. “We couldn’t live with ourselves if you had continued putting yourself hell because you couldn’t bear to leave us.”

Okay, wow. Big tears now. Yep, that got him.

Isaac whimpers again and Stiles decides to leave the subject alone for his sake. He accepts more hugs and reassuring hand-squeezes before they drift off to sleep.

About an hour later, everyone but Stiles is asleep, so he gets up and slips away to the bathroom to wash the tears off his face.

It’s the first moment he’s had alone since he woke up, so naturally he falls apart. He sits on the floor with his head between his knees as the fear sets in.

What if it’s not gone? What if a small part of it is still alive inside him?

He can’t control the powers. Hell, he doesn’t even want them. But is that because he’s afraid of them, or because it’s not him controlling them at all? What if he hurts someone?

Why can’t this shit just be over already? They’ve suffered enough at the hands of the Nogitsune – his hands, his brain unhelpfully reminds him – to last a lifetime.

“Stiles?” A soft knock on the door snaps him out of his head in a heartbeat. “Are you okay?”

He gets up and opens the door and is immediately pulled into a tight embrace. He wraps his arms around the other boy reassuringly. “I’m okay, Isaac.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” He agrees resignedly. “Come on, I’ll make something to eat.”

“I didn’t me to wake you.” Stiles says once they’re in the kitchen.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Isaac says as he hops up onto the counter adorably. Stiles surveys the circles under his eyes with a frown.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.”

Wow. What a pair they make.

Isaac is even less convincing than Stiles was two minutes ago.

“I miss Derek.” Isaac looks down at his hands in his lap as he says it. “I can’t help but feel like if he were here, this wouldn’t have happened – you wouldn’t have had to leave because he would have kept Scott and Theo in check.”

“Sometimes I feel that way too.” He admits.

“It’s good to see you though. I feel like I’ve been going crazy back home.”

“I know the feeling. So what did you think of Thor?”

“Oh my God! I’m so mad at you for not telling me you knew the Avengers!”

He can’t help but throw his head back and laugh at that. I may have only been a temporary fix to get Isaac to smile, but it’s enough for right now.

Soon the rest of them find them, roused by the laughter, and they all join in. Stiles serves them food as he listens to them freak out over meeting the Avengers and they demand to know every detail of awesomeness that has happened since meeting them.

He keeps it light so that the smiles will say on their faces just a little longer.

“Do you have anything else we should know?” Lydia demands, but it’s in good nature. “Because I still think I should skin you and chop you up into bits for not telling me you knew Pepper Potts and Natasha Romanov. They’re only two of the most powerful and intelligent women in the world!”

“Oh, don’t even, Lys!” Stiles practically cackles. “Don’t think I didn’t see you and Natasha eye-fucking the whole time.” She blushes and mutters something under her breath that he doesn’t catch, but everyone else’s laughter is enough to make him laugh too.

“Like we didn’t notice the moment you and James had when you saw him.”

“There was no moment!” No one needs super-hearing to know he’s lying. “Okay, okay. Maybe _I _had a moment, but did you see him? Holy hell.”

“Why must you always pick the damaged ones?” Erica shakes her head. He frowns. “That’s James Barnes, Stiles. As in Bucky Barnes – the winter soldier.”

“Of course he is.” Stiles sighs and Isaac chuckles.

Fuck.

“Stiles, I’m home.” His dad calls.

“In here, Dad.” He calls. “You hungry?”

“Starving.” John says as he drops into the empty chair between Stiles and Lydia. “But I think that can wait for a minute, we need to talk. All of us.”

Fuck intensifies.

“Right.” He cringes.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Lydia suggests. So much for smiles.

“So…I may have…accidentally…stumbled past SHIELD’s firewall while I was checking to see if any government agencies had proof that werewolves or anything existed and got kidnapped by Hawkeye.”

The fact that all his dad does is sigh resignedly and motion for him to go on really shows just how much crap Stiles has put him through over the years.

“I also…sort of…convinced him to wait until the next day to kidnap me so you wouldn’t find out?”

“Stiles…just…continue. I’ll yell at you when you’re done.”

Awesome.

“Well, you see, when we got there the Avengers were waiting because – apparently – me convincing Clint to wait is like a never-been-done-before rare. So then Tony offered me a job while Eye Patch Guy wanted to know how I got past the firewall and what I was looking for, and then there was Dude in the Suit 2 behind me that was going to try and put this thing on me – I asked Tony and he said it was a thing that made it to where I can’t get on any electronic devices while it’s on – but I shut that shit down real quick. So, yeah, I may have kind of gotten adopted by Tony Stark and the Avengers…surprise?”

“You are really bad at helping yourself out of sticky situations, you know that?” Isaac asks.

“No.” He sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “No, I am not.”

“Stiles, focus.”

“Right. So, after that there was…”

He tells them the whole thing. Or…almost the whole thing. He brushes over the Nogitsune with great care, because he’s one hundred percent sure his house is bugged and he doesn’t want to reveal anything – especially not the freaky powers that he hates – to people that he _so_ does not trust. No, that’ll have to wait until later.

When he’s done, he waits in silence. He’s expecting a lecture. He doesn’t get one.

“Stiles, next time, you tell me.” His dad’s voice sounds completely wrecked. “I’ve been in the next room over all this time, son. I could have helped.”

“I’ve put you through enough, Dad. I’ve put all of you through enough with the real thing. You don’t need to suffer more just because of a few nightmares.”

“Stiles, we can help.” Lydia insists. “You’ve been there for all of us through everything, we want to be there for you.”

“It isn’t exactly like I can talk about this shit in therapy, Lyds.” He shakes his head. “They’d toss me in the loony bin and throw away the key, and I think the first time around was enough.” Everyone looks down at their hands. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t want today to be so sad and serious. We got the truth out of the way, now let’s just watch a movie and snuggle on the couch okay?”

“Yeah.” Isaac nods and Stiles can’t help but ruffle his blonde hair.

Clint and Natasha crash their movie night halfway through Mission Impossible 2. So, naturally, they all made way more spy jokes than what was even remotely acceptable.

The sadness does go away. For the first time in what feel like an eternity, they all feel like they’re home in a way that they haven’t since before the Nogitsune.

He lays practically on top of Isaac, more focused on how amazing it feels to just be around him again than watching Tom Cruise be a badass. He drifts off to sleep with the comforting scent of Isaac and Pack filling his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter so didn't go like I was expecting it to. I had originally planned a break from the angst and feels for some pack bonding and Redheaded awesomeness, but alas, the story line said 'fuck you very much' and threw that plan out the window. I was originally gong to make Stiles telling John a private thing, but I decided to kill two birds with one stone and save the best - Stiles' newfound magic - for the Big Moment.  
In other news though, Lydia/Natasha? What do you think? Yes, no, maybe?  
Also, Isaac is literally my will to live wrapped up into adorable puppy-like packaging at this point, so we will definitely be getting a LOT more of him being awesome soon.  
I hope you guys aren't too upset that I keep hitting you with the feels when I say I'm going to make it happier. I really do try, but it's been a bumpy ride so far.  
Thank you a million for reading and being so sweet, I appreciate it so much!  
The next chapter will come out Friday night instead of Thursday due to the war going on between me and my computer and my having to actually sleep every once in a while, so I'll see you then.  
Keep up all the amazing comments! Responding to you guys is the best part of my day lately!


	7. They are so fucked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Chapter!!! My Idiot Did This Idiotic Thing One Time stories + Stiles/Bucky bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I said that I was going to update Friday night, cut to Monday night and I still haven't uploaded. So sorry! I've had so much going on I decided to just break the long chapter I had been planning on into a few shorter bits. This one is all happy stuff with a little bit of feelings thrown in at the end because I can't help myself.   
Hope you enjoy!  
XOXO babes

“Because that’s stupid!” Stiles’ friends are only half surprised that he’s willing to yell at one of the smartest, richest, and most powerful men in the world. “If you take the transmitter out of the head and put it in the tail, you can compact the camera down to make room for the laser right here.” 

“I can’t believe that they’re arguing about lasers.” Erica shakes her head. 

“Tell me about it.” Isaac says. “You missed the five a.m. phone call where they argued for an hour over whether or not penguins have knees.” 

“That actually might work.” Tony says and he and Stiles ignore where their friends are lounged out on the couch less than ten feet away. 

“That’s what I’ve been telling you for the past fifteen minutes!” 

“Save it for after it blows something up, kid.” 

“I vote marshmallows.” 

“Marshmallows don’t explode.” 

“Is that a challenge?” Stiles asks, a spark in his eyes that his friends haven’t seen in a long time. 

“NO.” At least six people shout. 

“Okay. Okay.” Stiles puts his hands up in defeat, but he and Tony exchange a look that tells everyone that a marshmallow is going to explode one way or another. “Jeez.” 

Thankfully, Pepper steps in just then before they can get too far into their plotting and disrupts their plans. “Lunch break. Let’s go. We’re meeting Stiles’ father at the restaurant.” 

“But, Pepper-“

“Nice try Stiles.” She says in what he thinks is a wonderful ‘mom voice’ and puts her hands on her hips. “Lunch. Now. The cars are waiting for us.” 

“You ruin all my fun.” He pouts as he and Tony abandon their work begrudgingly. 

“I love her.” Erica says in awe. 

Pepper just smiles as everyone gets up and makes for the cars. 

One hour later Stiles’ face is hot with embarrassment as his friends tell story after embarrassing story of stupid things he’s done since they knew him, his dad is aiding and abetting the whole time. 

“No, you can’t tell that story!” He groans with his face in his hands. 

“Watch me.” Erica laughs evilly. “Two years ago, it was our friend’s birthday. We’d never celebrated with him before because no one knew when it was. So, Stiles, being the nosy little shit that he is, decided that he was tired of Derek ignoring the question every time that we asked, so he got into his Dad’s computer at the station to pull up his birth certificate-“

“Oh, really?” John fixes the Disappointed Dad stare on him. 

“Erica!” Stiles complains. 

“-Anyways, the day rolls around and Stiles has decided that he’s going to throw Derek a surprise party, because Derek just _loves_ surprises.” Stiles sticks his tongue out at her at the sarcasm in her voice. “So he rounds us all up and takes us to the loft and just as everyone starts to sing happy birthday Derek wakes up and punches Stiles in the stomach. So, he goes flying backward with the breath knocked out of him and falls back into Scott, who knocks into Ethan and like dominoes, everyone falls. In the end, Theo has a black eye, Scott has a gash on his head from hitting the dresser, Boyd has a sprained ankle from where I fell on him, and Isaac broke his leg falling off the stairs. The entire time this is happening, Derek is yelling at Stiles who’s only response to the chaos around him is to say, ‘happy birthday?’.” 

The whole group is practically in tears at this point. 

“Okay, first off, it was an amazing idea.” Stiles defends, although he’s holding back laughter himself. “It is not my fault that Derek doesn’t know how to function like a normal human being. Second, I have apologized to everyone that was involved _several_ times.”

“That’s nothing.” Bucky chuckles as he sits down at the table with Steve. They hadn’t even noticed his presence until now, but now that he’s here, Stiles can’t help but stare at him. “Has Steve ever told you about the time he got me shot at camp because we was trying to help one of the rookies clean his gun?” 

“Oh, my God, James, no!” Steve groans and blushes a startling shade of red. 

“Oh, my God, yes!” Stiles practically cries enthusiastically. 

His stories are hilarious. The entire group laughs so hard that Isaac shoots soda out of his nose. 

But Stiles particularly finds himself captivated by Bucky’s charm. There’s just something about him that holds his attention. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Lydia aren’t sure whether to groan or laugh at Stiles’ new crush. 

“You lying little punk!” Steve smacks James – the name that Bucky now prefers to go by – on the arm, resulting in a metallic clang. 

If Stiles weren’t so caught up in laughing at the scene before him, he’d definitely pause at the arm. He hadn’t actually noticed it up until Steve smacked it – despite the fact that James gestures wildly when he really gets caught up in a story – but he certainly remembers his confusion at the drastic difference of temperature of the hands that had wrapped around his wrists just two days ago.

“That is the goddamned truth and you know it!” James smacks him back with the metal arm reflexively. 

No one else seems to notice him cringe just a little bit while he waits for Steve to react negatively – either from the memory of how sickly Steve used to be, or from the fact that he probably thinks that he just hurt him – except Stiles. 

“No, no, no.” Steve shakes his head. “That is NOT what happened! You ran off with…ah, what was her name…Morgan?” 

“Mindy.” 

“Yes,” Steve smacks the table with his hand enthusiastically, resulting in everything on it rattling, “Mindy. You ran off with her leaving me with Tina to ride that stupid ride after you had already made me eat all that awful fair-food and _then_ I threw up on her shoes.” 

“Oh, yes.” James rolls his eyes. “Because the ‘when’ of that situation is obviously more important than the fact that you threw up on that poor dame’s shoes.” 

A spark of something painful shoots through his chest for a moment as he watches everyone laugh at the two friend’s fanatics. It’s the same way he and Scott used to act before all of this crap happened. 

“You okay?” His dad asks quietly from beside him. 

“Yeah.” He nods, looking back to the pair. “Just wrapped up in my own little world.” 

“Your friends are good people, Stiles.” He smiles at his father in surprise. They exchange a small nod before returning to the conversation just in time to see Lydia, Natasha, and Pepper bonding. 

“Last week, Clint stabbed himself in the foot with an arrow because he forgot that Stiles was in the room and it scared him.” Natasha is telling them in a tone very similar to the superior one that Lydia so often uses. “We were in Stiles’ room.” 

Clint’s face turns a bright red color as he tries to ignore them to finish his conversation with James. 

“I once watched Stiles knee himself in the face when he fell trying to jump over Isaac who was sleeping in the floor.” Lydia nods. 

Stiles’ turn to go bright red as Isaac elbows him. 

“I remember.” He says ruefully, rubbing his thigh where Stiles has broken his leg a second him. 

“Tony almost died once because he decided that light-sabers where something that he needed, and he accidentally cut a whole in the ceiling while playing with it. Concussion for two weeks.” 

Isaac, Lydia, Erica, Boyd, and his dad all groan in unison as he shouts, “You made a LIGHT SABER???” 

“It was decommissioned for safety purposes.” Pepper says with an apprehensive look in her eyes. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket as everyone goes back to their conversations. 

_ I’ve still got the blueprints. _

He looks at Tony and almost squeals when he winks conspiratorially. 

*****

Stiles isn’t really sure how it happened, but somehow or another he ended up alone with James – he thinks Lydia had something to do with it. 

They’re walking back to Stiles’ apartment together since everyone is off doing their own thing and neither of them really feel like going back to SI and Stiles is practically torturing him with twenty questions. 

“Why do you go by James?” 

“Well, I’m a different person now, you know?” He asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they walk. He finds it endearing to watch someone so big look so small like that – but also sad, because he knows the trauma behind it. “Seventy years of anything will change you, but when I think of ‘Bucky’ I think of the wide-eyed little shit that used to get in trouble with Stevie. A kid. That’s just not who I am anymore.” 

“I get that.” 

“You do?” James’s brows furrow in surprise as he comes to a complete stop to stare at the younger boy beside him. 

“Yeah.” Stiles shrugs, finding himself already trapped in the intensity of his eyes. “I could see it at lunch, especially with Steve. It’s like…when you ‘disappeared’ it changed Steve. His best friend was gone, or so he thought, and he was struggling to deal with that, but he never got the chance to really grieve over you before he went into the ice, you know? So, when he woke up, it was all still fresh for him, he was still trying to figure out how to function when he found you, and he thought that because you were back, things would be fine again. Yeah, he’s a little different, but he’s never really had enough time apart from you to change. You had seventy years in and out of the ice where your head wasn’t you own and your memories were practically non-existent. Like you said, seventy years of anything will change you, but with that…you’re not the same anymore, but Steve is.” 

“So, it’s probably easy for you to want to be that kid that he talks about in those stories, but no matter what, you’re not him anymore. Sure, you can talk and laugh with him while you try to remember what little you can, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a different person now. And that’s on either of you. It doesn’t make you a bad friend for not being able to be that kid anymore or him a bad friend for struggling to let that kid go. It’s just how it is.” 

James just stares at him, mouth open in awe of the kid before him. In less than a day Stiles has completely gotten him figured out in way that none of his therapists – or even Steve – have yet to do in the entire time he’s been back. 

“You’re something else, you know that, Stiles?” 

“You are not the first person to say that.” _Although I’m pretty sure you’re the first person to say it like that._ He adds in his head. “Okay, so how many languages can you speak?” 

Just like that they’re right back at it. Stiles asks the most random questions, to which James always has an answer to. They talk about everything from his favorite places he’s ever been to his least favorite aquatic animal – yes, Stiles did phrase it exactly like that, earning himself yet another slightly awed look from James. 

It isn’t until James is woken by Isaac and Lydia crawling into Stiles’ bed that he really notes just how screwed already is that he didn’t even notice when he and Stiles fell asleep talking and the teen slowly wiggled his way into his arms. 

Yep. He’s fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SO SO sorry for not putting out a chapter over the weekend. So much has happened. There's been people drama, computer drama, holiday drama, ALL THE DRAMA. But with me starting up school tomorrow, I felt like it was better to put out a short chapter - it is so short it should be a crime, I'm sorry - than none at all because from here on out my uploading schedule is probably going to be whack.   
I want to say thank you to everyone for waiting for this chapter and being patient and to everyone that commented while I was away. You're all so sweet as per usual. I haven't had the time to respond back to anyone with how busy I've been, but I promise that I'll get on it first thing when I find the time.   
Until then, I'd love your input of what I've got so far. What do you think of Bucky going by James? I feel like there's potential for nicknames there. Also, we need background pairings. Ideas? I'm open to pretty much anything and you guys are always so creative.   
Once again, I'm so sorry to keep you guys waiting and for such a short chapter, but I will get more out ot you as soon as I can! Thanks for being patient!


	8. Brownies, Iappropriate Caps, and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a fucking mess. I don't even know how to describe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. It's been a minute.   
Sorry for taking so long to get this out. Between school, life, and more Demonic Laptops, it's been a rough two weeks. It's a really short, kind of choppy chapter, but apparently that's becoming a theme here. Sorry it took me to long to get this out, but thank you so much for your patience.

“Stiles?” Isaac asks, making him look up in surprise. 

The blonde is standing in the doorway of the kitchen in his boxers rubbing sleepily (read: adorably) at his eyes. “What are you doing up?” 

“I rolled over and you weren’t there.” The blonde says, shuffling to sit in the chair at the bar. “Why are you up so early?” 

Stiles sighs as he continues mixing the brownie batter. “Scott called. Wanted to check in, I guess, make sure I wasn’t dead. He said that he had talked Lydia, but he wanted to check himself.” He rolls his eyes. “Guilt trip in disguise. So now I’m making brownies.” 

“It’s four in the morning.” 

“Yeah, well, the brownies don’t know that.” He says, earning himself one of Isaac’s sunshine laughs. 

“Lydia was talking about going back in a few days.” Isaac mumbles after a quiet moment. 

“I know.” Stiles’ heart gives a painful squeeze at the thought. “Break is almost over.” 

“I don’t want to go back.” It’s barely a whisper, but it’s enough to make Stiles stop what he’s doing and look over at the blonde beta. Big wide eyes look back at him hesitantly. “I want to stay with you.” 

“Isa-“

“There’s nothing there for me anymore.” He closes his mouth and comes to sit down in the chair next to him. “Derek is gone. You’re here. Scott’s a douche. I’ll miss Erica and Boyd and Lydia, but they’re leaving Beacon Hills after high school anyways. I want to stay in New York with you.” 

“You’d be leaving the Pack, you realize that, right?” Stiles asks softly, putting his hand over Isaac’s larger one. “You wouldn’t have a Pack.” 

“You’re my Pack.” 

Wow. If his defenses were crumbling before, they’re pretty much non-existent now. 

He doesn’t say anything, just hugs his best friend. 

“Okay.” He sniffs a little as he pulls back, fighting tears. “Well, now that I am in serious danger of becoming a puddle on the floor, brownies.” 

“Can I lick the bowl?” 

Stiles has to try to keep his laughter quiet so he doesn’t wake the others. 

“Yes, you can lick the bowl.” 

The smell of baking brownies rouses the other werewolves in the house, as well as Clint, who – while Stiles didn’t even know he was here – does not surprise anyone by being downstairs faster than the wolves at the smell of Stiles’ deserts. 

“Are you making brownies?” He asks hopefully, the prospect of chocolate waking him right up. 

“I can’t wake you up during an actual crisis, but the smell of brownies can get you out of bed at Ass O’Clock in the morning.” Stiles shakes his head fondly. “You heathens.” 

“Are you making brownies?” The Sheriff is suddenly standing right next to Clint. 

Stiles lets out a long groan as everyone laughs. "_Heathens!_” He repeats exasperatedly. 

“Lies.” Erica says as she attempts to swipe the bowl that Isaac is literally licking clean. He growls and snaps at her hands with his teeth, causing Stiles to throw a spatula at them with a warning look. “_Isaaaaac. Share!_” 

“NO.” He says as he sticks his entire head back into the bowl. There’s brownie batter in his hair now, but he doesn’t seem to care. “It’s mine. He gave it to me.” 

“I am surrounded by a bunch of overgrown toddlers.” Stiles mutters to himself as the oven beeps. He turns to get it only to find Clint standing almost all the way pressed against him impatiently. “Jesus fuck! Don’t do that!” 

“Brownies.” Is all Clint says in response. 

“I hate all of you.” 

*****

“Oh my God, can you not right now?” Stiles laughs as he half-heartedly pushes Erica’s face out of his neck. “I am trying to read here.” 

Erica scenting his neck has nothing to do with his lack of concentration right now. The stupid words don’t make any sense. 

“You smell like the city.” Is all she says before returning to scenting him. He sighs exasperatedly, but he’s not actually annoyed. In truth, he’s missed this – snuggling with Pack – more than he’d like to admit and he’s feeling more than a little touch-starved. 

“I’ll make sure to notify the city of your complaint.” 

“Smartass doesn’t look good on you.” Lydia says from where she’s sitting on his other side doing her makeup. 

“Smartass looks stunning on me.” He rolls his eyes as he tries to continue reading whatever it is that he can’t focus on. 

Okay. He can do this. 

Something about dialogue? 

No. Figure of speech? 

Is this even English? 

Okay. Deep breath.

Try again. Look for context clues. 

Apple. 

Wow. That’s all he got? Apple?

Seriously? 

Fine. Slightly more agitated deep breath. 

Apples and…house? 

That helps nothing. 

Serious, he just needs a subject, then he can go from there. 

History? Science? Math? Anything. 

Nope. Nothing. 

“Fuck!” He shouts and throws the book into the wall. 

“Stiles!” his friends cry in alarm. 

“Oh.” He jumps. He forgot they were there. “Sorry guys. Um, I’m going to take a walk.”

“Wha-“

“I’ll be back in an hour.” 

Stiles hates days like this, where no matter what he can’t focus on what he wants to. Sometimes he’ll spend all day stubbornly glaring at the same page even though he knows it’s no use. 

He’s so caught up being annoyed at himself that he doesn’t even notice what’s going on around him until he runs head-first into James – or rather, James’ metal arm. “Ow, fuck!” 

“Stiles, are you okay?” James asks worriedly, putting is flesh hand on his waist to steady him.

“Yeah.” He rubs at his forehead, wondering if the metallic clang came from James’ arm or his head. “Sorry, I didn’t see you. Wrapped up in my own head, I guess.” 

“Seemed like it. I said your name, but you didn’t answer.” 

“My brain isn’t really working today.” He admits, suddenly very aware at just how close they’re standing, and that James’ hand is still resting lightly on his waist. 

James seems to realize that too, because he drops his hand, but doesn’t back up. Stiles tries not to read into that. 

Instead he looks around, confused. “Um, where are we?” 

“You went on a walk in a city you don’t know how to navigate?” 

“Not my brightest idea.” Stiles blushes under his intense gaze. 

“Come on,” James rolls his eyes, “I’ll walk you back.” 

“I don’t really want to go back yet.” 

“Well then I’ll walk you to the park.” 

“Okay.” 

*****

“Where did you even get a dog?” Stiles questions as he watches James throw a yellow ball, trying desperately – and failing spectacularly – to ignore the way the muscles under the tight shirt bunch and flex as he moves. 

“Lucky is Clint’s.” He drops onto the bench next to Stiles as the dog bolts after the ball. “I just figured that as long as I’m staying with him, I might as well take the dog on a walk.” 

“Wow, there is totally a Fluffy Marshmallow under that Badass Spy Bro exterior, huh?” James arches an eyebrow at him. He blushes but stands his ground. “Oh, come on! You’re taking the time to walk the dog and keep me from being murdered in the streets of New York. I’d say those are the beginning steps of becoming a Fluffy Marshmallow.” 

“Did you just capitalize that?” He asks curiously and Stiles blushes even harder. 

“No one has ever actually picked up on that before.” 

“Well then, I’m honored to be the first.” 

It really should be that easy to put dirty thoughts in his head, but it is.

“So how long are you staying in New York?” Stiles asks before any _visible_ changes happen that could lead to a very awkward conversation. 

“I don’t know.” He admits as Lucky returns the ball and promptly lays down at their feet, apparently having had enough exercise for the day. “I only came back for Steve’s birthday. Now that I’m here I guess I’m just struggling with it, you know?” 

Stiles nods. “Yeah. On one hand you have Steve trying to fix you, which sucks, and on the other you don’t want to disappoint him by leaving. Not an easy choice.” 

“How’d you do it?” He asks, blue eyes staring straight into his soul as if it holds all the answers. “How’d you leave?” 

“I hit my breaking point.” Stiles admits. “So much crap had happened and just kept happening and I just snapped. I guess the difference is that my best friend wasn’t trying to ‘fix’ the situation, but then, Scott only does when it falls in line with what he wants and what he believes.” 

“Sounds like a shitty best friend.” 

He makes a resigned noise of assent at that. “I don’t have the answers, James. I’m just some kid who would is lucky he doesn’t get himself murdered on the streets of New York because he was so caught up obsessing about things he couldn’t control, he walked into a city he doesn’t know. I don’t know how you make the decision on whether or not to put yourself through Hell if it fixes things between you and Steve. But, I do know that Steve is trying. He’s might be just making things worse right now, but that’s because he doesn’t know you, James. He knows Bucky, so that’s all he has to go on. Right now, he sees you as a broken Bucky and he feels like it’s his fault. That’s why he’s trying to fix you. You want you best friend back, and I get that. But neither of you is going to get the other back until you get to know each other again, not as Stevie and Bucky, but Steve and James.”

“But what if he’s right?” James whispers and Stiles feels his heart shatter at the helpless look in his eyes. It’s the same way Stiles feels all the time. “What if I am broken?” 

“Then I’d say welcome to the club.” He puts his hand over James’ cautiously, slowly. He knows better than to be his usual flaily self around someone who has so much going on in their heads right now. “But I don’t think you’re broken. Different? Yes. But not broken. We all have our scars, some of us just have a few more than others.” 

“Don’t have the answers, huh?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eyeballs hurt because I've been up since four a.m. and now it's two a.m. and I'm annoyed that this chapter feels like it's five sentences long.   
Today I spent at least thirteen hours staring at a computer screen reading smut instead of riding this story. Executive dysfunction is the bane of my existence these days, bested only be the apparent hatred all technology has for me.   
Yeah, my new laptop hates me and my old one is no long charging. Yay.   
So, Isaac is staying. Thank God. I literally did not have the heart to make him go back home, have you seen his smile? Also, I couldn't resist the trope of Stiles being a good cook and Clint being a foodie, because how can you.   
What do you guys think of Stiles' insites on Bucky? I think they're spot on, but I am admittedly biased.   
Once again, I'm hoping that next chapter will be longer and better, but WOW is my track record sucking so far.   
I think I'd decided to do a Tony/Bruce pair or the classic Tony/Pepper. Idk yet. If Bruce doesn't end up with Tony I think he should end up with Derek. Maybe. Thought?   
Anyways, sleep depravation is getting to me and I have to be up in four hours so, I'm done for today. This feels like a crappy chapted, but I hope you liked it.   
XOXO babes


	9. Is a home really a home (without a pack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Stiles out of the hospital and their mini vacation coming to an end, it's time to for Lydia, Erica, and Boyd to back to Beacon Hills. And with Isaac going with them to get his things together and talk to Scott before permanently moving to New York, Stiles is left facing the next two days alone. So naturally they party hard and fill their time with happy things instead of focus on their imminent departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so, I have nothing to say for myself.

When Stiles returns to his house Isaac, Lydia, Boyd, and Erica are all scattered around his living room. Isaac is pacing. They all look up when he enters.

“Where were you?” Isaac demands, on him before he can even open his mouth, almost knocking him on his ass from the force of the hug.

“I went for a walk.” He already feels guilty as Isaac drags him into the living room with the others.

“What happened?” Erica asks, hurt clear on her face.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly, putting his hand over hers. “I didn’t mean to lose it like that. You guys didn’t do anything wrong.” He sighs. “Some days, I just can’t be productive. I can’t get anything done at all. I can read an article a dozen times and not understand a single word of it and it feels like…it feels like when he was in my head, and we thought I was sick.”

Several whines at that, Isaac’s especially insistent. He runs his fingers through Isaac’s hair where his face is buried in his neck to soothe him.

“I know that I’m not, but it’s frustrating, and I’m sorry that I yelled and disappeared.”

“It’s okay, Stiles.” Lydia assures him. You’d think that after everything the Nogitsune put her through, she’d be a little less understanding about all of this, but even when he was unconscious after the Doombot attack and they thought that maybe the Nogitsune was back, she was the voice of reason. “We’re not mad. We were just worried. You left and we didn’t know where you were going, and the wolves can’t track in you the city.”

More guilt. He didn’t even think about that.

“I’m s-“

“No more apologies.” Erica says, squeezing his hand. “Seriously, Stiles.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Well, we have a day and a half before you traitors leave me again, let’s not spend it like this.”

And that’s how Lydia and Erica ended up dragging the lot of them to a gay club. Stiles tried to point out that they had no idea if it was a safe place to go, or if they’d even be able to get in, but his protests fell on deaf ears.

It didn’t turn out to be a problem either way, because as bars go it’s very nice.

“I hate all of you!” Stiles shouts over the music as they push a drink into his hands.

“No you don’t.” Isaac shouts back. “Now come dance with us!”

He allows himself to be drug back out onto the dance floor where Lydia demands that he and Isaac dance with him to keep any creeps away from her. The irony of the situation seems to be that everyone seems to be more interested in Stiles.

All of his friends seem to get a kick out of watching Stiles turn red and fend off the more handsy of his admirers.

“OoKAY!” Stiles says as the current dude grinding up against him somehow manages to shove his hand down the back of his skin-tight jeans. “Sorry dude, but I am not your type.”

“I think you are.” He says back into Stiles’ ear.

“Really, is your type underage?” The hand and the guy attached to it are gone very quickly after that.

Isaac and Erica are nearly in tears when he rejoins them at the bar, sliding in between Erica and Lydia – even she and Boyd are smiling a little.

“That was a bad touch.” He shivers. “I am going to need so many showers after this.” Isaac laughs on the other side of Lydia. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, you’re the one who’s going to have to hear about this now that you’re living with me.”

Erica laughs at that.

Despite the teasing and joking that happens throughout the night about the _many_ advances made on him, his friends do step up to the plate when needed.

“Um, I didn’t order this.” He says to the bartender as she places another of whatever he’s drinking in front of him.

“That guy over there ordered it for you.”

They all look down the bar to see a very tall, hulking man that the word ‘guy’ definitely doesn’t apply to. The man flashes him an intimidating smile and he has to repress a shiver.

“Oh _hell_ no.” Erica says next to him.

“Oh _now_ you want to play protector, huh?” Stiles demands as Erica returns the drink to the bartender, staring the man down the whole time. He notices that the rest of the group is doing the same. “Where was this when Mr. Touchy-Feely had his hands down my pants, huh?”

“The last one didn’t look like he wanted to eat you for dinner.” She says as she pulls him back onto the dance floor. “Well, he did, just in a different way.”

“Ha Ha.” He shouts. “You’re so funny!”

“I know!”

“Rude.”

“Shut up and dance with me already.”

He rolls his eyes but has to admit that Erica is really fun to dance with.

It’s a great night. There’s nothing wrong. No Big Bads attacking them. No Pack drama. No danger looming over their heads. He doesn’t have to think about that fact that he only has one day left with all of them before they leave, he just gets to laugh and dance with them and enjoy this. So he does – and even the minor confrontation he had on the dance floor later with the creeper guy can’t ruin his mood.

Eventually, they go home. Stiles has a serious buzz going, but he isn’t drunk, so they all pile into his bed and eat pizza while watching some chick-flick that Lydia and Erica insisted on.

“I’m going to miss this.” He says when most of them have fallen asleep. It’s just him and Boyd awake now.

“We’ll come back, Stiles.”

“I know.” He nods. “I guess I just didn’t realize exactly how much I missed you guys until you were here. I’m sorry for scaring you guys. I haven’t forgotten why you came.”

“It’s okay. We’re just happy you’re okay.”

“Thanks Boyd.”

“Get some sleep Stiles.”

*****

“Oh, shut up.” Stiles says over his shoulder. “Keep griping and I’ll leave you to fend for yourselves. Ten minutes and you’ll be gnawing each other’s appendages off.”

“You have so little faith in us, batman.” Erica grins.

“Well, I thin-“ His response is cut off by his door opening and the entire Avengers crew plus Pepper and James coming in, all led by Tony. “When did you get a key to my-never mind. I’ll get more bacon.”

“Don’t worry,” Clint says as he and Thor set several _very_ full bags down on the counter, “We brought supplies.”

“Thank god.” He sighs. “Bruce, get over here, you’re helping.” To his great surprise Tony also moves to help as he starts chopping things to go in omelets next to him.

“Fun night?” He asks, making Stiles arch an eyebrow at him. “You’re covered in glitter.”

“Damn. I thought I got it all. Two showers, Tony. Two.” Everyone laughs. “Also, don’t even pretend it was the glitter. We all know that you have me under constant surveillance.”

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

“That’s our job.” Isaac says from where he’s chatting animatedly with Thor in the living room.

“No, your job is to back him up when he gets into trouble.” Natasha corrects, ruffling the blonde’s curls as she walks by. “Our job is keeping the bad guys away in the first place.”

“And who do you think sends you backup?” Tony asks.

Stiles can’t help but smile at the display from all of his friends. It feels like it’s been so long since he’s had this. He’s going to miss his friends.

“Stiles?”

He blinks and looks up to see Tony looking at him expectantly.

“What?”

“I asked if you’d pass me the tomatoes.”

“Oh, right. Sure.”

Everyone chats happily as they cook. Stiles tries to teach Tony how to flip an egg in the air but it just ends with Bruce having to bandage up his calf from where the extremely hot egg landed on him – grease and all – and the yolk busted on his bare skin. Still, even that couldn’t ruin his mood.

His father comes downstairs just as the kitchen table breaks in two from Thor and Steve arm wrestling. To the Sheriff’s credit, he doesn’t do anything more than sigh.

“I’ll pay for that.” Tony says immediately.

Stiles hands his dad a plate with a shy smile and shrugs. “What can you do?”

“Thanks son.”

“Sure, Dad.” He nods.

“Son?” He looks up quizzically. His Dad just gives him a fond – yet slightly exasperated – look and says, “Pants?” It’s right then that he realizes that he’s only wearing one of Boyd’s shirts and some boxers.

“Right.” He nods, getting up to go change, only a little embarrassed.

That of course, changes when Boyd calls, “I need that shirt back.” from the living room.

Several people snicker, which is then quickly followed by Isaac’s, “You can keep my underwear.”

“Okay, you did that shit on purpose!” Stiles shouts from his bedroom. He hears Isaac’s muffled laugh in response. Once the heat drained from his face he can admit that he laughed a little too.

Once breakfast is over, Tony announces the plan for today. Which is paintball, shopping, and food.

Bruce doesn’t really seem to _want_ to go shopping, but he also doesn’t want to play paintball. Lydia wouldn’t let anyone shoot small balls of paint at her if our lives depended on it, nor would Pepper, for that matter. And Erica still has some lingering PTSD from their last encounter with the Hunters and isn’t really too keen on having tiny projectiles fly at her any time soon – not that they tell anyone that.

The four of them, plus Natasha – a surprise that doesn’t really surprise Stiles because he’s seen her and Lydia flirting all morning – decide to go shopping instead and will meet them for lunch later. Thor also goes because he’s currently in the middle of a conversation with Lydia and Erica about conditioner and haircare that he apparently finds fascinating.

That leaves Tony, Steve, Clint, James, The Sheriff, Stiles, Isaac, and Boyd for paintball. Stiles is a little surprised to see James with them considering that there’s probably still a lot of trauma about shooting people with him, but he seems perfectly at ease.

The teams vary from round to round, but for the big match, it ends up being him, Isaac, Boyd, and The Sheriff against Tony, Steve, Clint, and James.

That match is the most fun.

At that point Stiles had been missing most of his shots on purpose as per his father’s instruction, but now, just when everyone thinks that they’re safe, he gets to step it up.

He takes out Steve less than a minute into the match.

Clint tags Boyd at some point after.

Tony and his father battle it out, which ends in his father being tagged with bright green paint by James, who’s perched up high with a perfect shot on any of them is they get even two feet away from their walls.

Isaac and Stiles have to work together to get Tony out – apparently all the time he spends dodging projectiles mid-air have left him with some serious skill. But Stiles is a damn-near perfect shot and Isaac has werewolf strength and vision, so really, he never stood a chance.

That just leaves James and Stiles.

It’s very close. Every time that Stiles tries to find a better shot, he instead finds himself narrowly escaping a paintball. But in a last-ditch effort he carefully scales the wall he was hiding behind and tags James before he can even realize that he’s there.

There’s laughs and cheering and somehow Stiles ends up on Isaac’s back. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?” They ask at the same time.

“I’m the son of a sheriff, you think I don’t know how to shoot?” Clint just laughs and claps him on the back as Isaac finally releases him. James joins them from his post, a surprised, yet amused look on his face.

“Dude, you just shot the Winter Soldier.” Isaac whispers into his ear and Stiles blushes bright red.

“Come on team, we’re going to meet the others for lunch.”

On the way to the car James leans in and says, “Nice shot.” which makes stiles blush a violent shade of red and fall into Steve.

“Th-thanks.” He mutters after everyone recovers.

When they get to where everyone is waiting at Stark Town Erica wrinkles her nose as he sits down and whispers, “Why do you smell so embarrassed?”

Isaac leans across both of them and whispers back, “James complemented him.” Stiles elbows him as they snicker.

“I hate both of you.” He mutters, cheeks flaming again.

“No you don’t.” They say in unison.

The rest of the group is just starting to talk about their paintball matches when they rejoin the conversation. “-Stiles is a great shot.”

Several heads turn in his direction and the blush deepens even further. “Really?” Pepper asks.

“Yeah.” Clint nods. “He probably has Phil beat with no training. He won the last match.”

“How was shopping?” Stiles can ask before any more attention is placed on him. Thankfully, Lydia doesn’t need much prompting to talk about fashion.

Lunch is great. They talk and laugh and just be stupid as a group. Movies and games are broken out. It’s honestly more fun to watch Thor try and comprehend how to play Yahtzee than it is to actually _play_ Yahtzee. There’s a feeling of family around the group of misfits – teens and adults alike – that Stiles thinks feels suspiciously like what Pack is supposed to feel like.

He laughs and talks and plays along with everyone, but he doesn’t ever leave his spot next to his friends. There seems to be an understanding among the youngest of the group. Though they’ll being seeing each other again soon, they are still saying goodbye today.

Though the rest of the group might not understand the looks the five exchange, they don’t miss the way the cling to each other – Isaac and Stiles in particular.

Later, as the night winds down, most of them are sprawled out on the couches dozing off, Stiles and Isaac stay up talking.

“I don’t want to leave.” Isaac says quietly into Stiles’ shoulder.

“I don’t want you to leave either.” Stiles murmurs back into the blonde’s hair. “But you have stuff you need to take care of. You need to get your stuff and get school sorted out and talk to Scott.”

“I know.” He pouts.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

He shakes his head vigorously. “No. I don’t want you to have to go back there.”

“Then it’s just two days.” Stiles assures him. “I’ll call and text all day. You’ll be back before you know it.”

“Okay.” Isaac yawns into the other teen’s shoulder.

“Go to sleep.”

*****

“I own private jets.” Tony reminds them for the millionth time. “So don’t think that I won’t hesitate to fly across the country if I hear that any of you idiots are causing trouble, got it?”

They all smile a little at Tony’s odd brand of affection and exchange one last round of hugs.

“If I don’t get at least two calls a day, I will make your life hell.” Lydia warns Stiles when she hugs him goodbye. “Got it?” She asks sweetly, as if she didn’t just send chills up the spine of every adult that could hear her.

“Of course, my freckles.” He smiles, kissing her on the cheek.

“Thank you for the clothes.” Boyd says when it’s his turn. Stiles just nods.

When Pepper took him shopping he bought extra clothes in bigger sizes and in women’s sizes. He had justified it in his head and clothes for his dad and just having some to spare in case they ever had guests, but he knew that he had really bought them in case the Pack ever came to visit them. Now their clothes smell like him and the ones he bought smell like them. It’s not much, but its enough that maybe this will be easier on all of them – especially the wolves.

“Call if you need anything, yeah?” Boyd nods.

“Don’t you go getting in trouble without me now, Cat Woman.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Bat Man.” She says as she hugs him fiercely. “Text me everyday, okay?”

“I will.”

Isaac’s turn. Their hug lasts a little longer than the others did. “Just hurry back, okay? And don’t get into trouble. Don’t fight with Theo, even when he baits you. Try to avoid Scott for as long as you can, it’ll be easier that way. And don’t tell him until the last day. You don’t want to give him and Theo time to get riled up.”

“Okay.” Isaac just nods, not pointing out that they’ve been over it a hundred times.

“If you get hurt, I will never forgive you.”

“I know.”

“Okay, go.” One last reassuring hand squeeze from Lydia and then they’re gone, and Stiles is grateful for the tears building in his eyes that cloud his vision, because it means that he doesn’t have to watch them leave him.

“They’ll be back soon.” His dad promises him. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay.” He nods. He doesn't say what he's thinking - that how can you call it a home when all is the lingering smell of a long-gone Pack on a few shirts and a nose not strong enough to find comfort it. How can you call it a home without Pack?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think?  
I'm like seventy-eight percent sure that this chapter is shit, but at this point I think I've made you wait long enough and it's all I got. I promise to try and be better about updating, but there has been so much going on in my life.  
I just started ACT Prep, my uncle went missing two weeks ago, and on top of everything I'm sick. It has been stressful to say the least, but thank you for sticking around.  
As always, I'd love to hear what you think about the story. Creative input is always welcome and you guys always come up with the most adorable and hilarious suggestions that I love figuring out ways to work into the story.  
I'm SO sorry that this took so long to get out. I'm already a little ways into the next chapter. The story is finally going to start progeressing a bit in the next few chapters, so just stick with me here.  
I hope this wasn't as shit as I feel like it was.  
XOXO babes


	10. Drowning Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets dark. Sorry.   
Trigger warnings for some seriously self-destructive behavior ahead. Also some sort-of-kind-of-intentional unintentional self-harm.   
It's short. It's shitty. It's depressing. Forgive me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My life is chaos.

Stiles feels empty now. They haven’t even been gone a whole day yet but it’s like they took his happiness and confidence with him, leaving him feeling completely hollow and with more self-doubt circulating in his head than he’d like to admit.

  
It’s late. He doesn’t know how late, but he can feel it in his eyes. His body wants sleep, but he knows better than to sleep right now. He can already hear the voice right now, he’s sure as hell not going to sleep and give him free reign of his nightmares.

  
‘Oh, come on.’ An evil little voice says in the back of his head. ‘We’ve played this game before, haven’t we?’ 

  
He knows this voice well. He should, he hears it every time he opens his mouth to talk. It’s his voice. But he knows damn well that it isn’t him, it’s the Nogitsune. Just like when it was in control, using his face and his body and his voice. That’s worse than seeing and hearing the gauze-wrapped corpse that he was in the beginning, because it feels too real.

Like it’s still in his head. 

  
‘I am in your head, Stiles.’ Void says in a silky way that he could never achieve on his own. ‘I’ll always be in your head, remember?’ 

  
“They’ll be back.” He tells himself quietly. 

  
‘Of course they will.’ Void agrees. ‘They’ll be back. The next time you lose control they’ll come running, just like they did this time. Do you know why, Stiles?’ 

  
He pointedly doesn’t think anything back. They just left and he’s already falling apart. 

  
‘It’s because they’re afraid of you.’ Void continues, unaffected. ‘Afraid of who you are, of what you can do. They look at you, but they see us. They see how powerful we were, and they’re scared. Scared that they’re going to have to put us down.’ 

  
The image of Chris pointing the gun at him pops into his head despite his best efforts. He can’t suppress the chill that slips down his spine as he remembers back to that. Void egging him on while Stiles screamed himself hoarse trapped in his own head, begging for it to stop, for someone to hear him. 

  
He glances over at his bed where Clint is fast asleep with Natasha and decides to get up and go to the bathroom. 

  
“Stop it.” He mutters as he splashes cold water onto his face. Anything to keep him awake.

  
He definitely shouldn’t have looked into the mirror, because now his reflection is moving independently of him. “No.” It says, smirking at him with his stolen face. ‘I’m not going to stop, Stiles. Do you know why? Because you know it’s true. You know that they’re scared of you. It’s why you didn’t tell them – about the powers. Because you know that once you say it, they won’t see you anymore. They’ll see me.’ 

  
“Haven’t you taken enough from me?” 

  
‘Me?’ His reflection laughs. ‘Oh Stiles, no. We. We did that. You and me. Together. I couldn’t have done it by myself. Trapped in a tree for decades, I was a man out of time. But you, with your thirst for knowledge. You gave me the information I needed to hurt them. The bomb. The fox-fire. You, with your need for approval, you knew everything about them – from their favorite colors to their worst fears. You gave me their weaknesses. Allison. Aiden. I didn’t do that by myself, Stiles. We did.’ 

  
He’s closed his eyes by now, but that doesn’t stop him from hearing him. ‘Take some credit for your work, Stiles. It was beautiful.’ 

  
Leave me alone. Just leave me alone. 

  
‘Oh, it’s much too late for that. Everyone has it, no one can lose it. What is it?’ 

  
He can’t stop the words from tumbling past his lips. “A shadow.” 

  
‘That’s right, Stiles.’ Void nods, looking pleased. ‘A shadow. I’m your shadow. You can’t get rid of me.’ Before he can think about it he slams his fist into the mirror, resulting in it shattering and falling all over the bathroom. 

  
He turns and walks out, closing the door behind him to find Natasha and Clint both sitting up, searching for the threat. “What’s wrong?” 

  
“Nothing.” He lies. “I tripped and fell into the mirror. I’ll clean it up in the morning. You guys don’t have to stay with me tonight, I’m fine.” 

  
“Stiles, it’s not trouble, really.” Clint assures him. 

  
“Really, I’m fine.” He shakes his head easily. “You guys don’t have to stay here. Go see your dog, hang out with James. I know he wasn’t really sure how long he was staying.” 

  
“You’re sure?” Natasha asks. Maybe it’s because they’re tired that they’re so easy to fool, but either way, it works. 

  
“Yeah.” He nods. “Dad’s home tonight anyways.” 

  
“Okay.” Clint hesitates, clapping a hand on his shoulder before heading to the window. Natasha uses the door like a civilized person.

  
‘Give it up, Stiles.’ Nogitsune says as Stiles eyes his empty, inviting bed. ‘We’ve done this before in Eichen House. You know you’ll give in eventually.’ 

  
Some part of him is aware that his hand is bleeding as he crawls into bed, but he doesn’t feel it. “You’re right.” He says to the ceiling. “Last time I lost. This time though, the only person you can hurt is me.” 

  
_He wakes up in his room back home and stretches before sitting up. He got a good night’s sleep for the first time in a long time. _

  
_“Stiles, get up!” His dad calls from downstairs. “I’m leaving for work, don’t be late for school.” _

  
_He hums a happy little tune as he gets out of bed. He’s excited for school today, he and Scott have plans to go see a movie after lacrosse practice and he’s practically vibrating with excitement. _

  
_But all of that changes when he pushes his bedroom room open and steps into the hall. _

  
_Because it isn’t the hall. _

  
_He’s in the middle of the woods. _

  
_It’s dark. Nighttime. Just enough moon light to see by. He turns back around to look for the door he just came out of, but of course it’s gone. _

  
_Instead he sees a little girl. Maybe five, sobbing as she runs away from a chillingly familiar figure with pale gold eyes. He watches in horror as she trips over her feet and goes sprawling in the dirt. He comes to a halt behind her, stalking towards her slower now._

  
_“Mommy!” The girl screams as he raises a clawed hand for what is undoubtably a fatal blow. The sound shocks Stiles into movement. _

  
_“Theo no!” He screams, arms outstretched. The girl lifts off the ground and flies right into his arms, away from Theo. The girl sobs harder in response and Theo snarls and turns towards him. The girl screams and clings tighter to his chest._

  
_He scrambles backwards as he tries to fight down panic and figure out what to do, but when Theo raises his claws to attack, he sends the magic inside him bursting forwards without even consciously thinking about it. _

  
_“Stiles no!” Scott screams – when did Scott and the Pack get here? – but it’s too late. Theo flies backwards and falls to the ground, his head making a horrible sound when it cracks against a rock protruding from the ground that Stiles is sure wasn’t there a second ago. _

  
_Theo goes still, dead eyes boring into his soul, blood pooling on the ground in shock. _

  
_“Don’t look.” He warns the crying girl, her arms are still wrapped around his neck, clinging for dear life. “You’re safe now.” _

  
_All at once everything changes again. He couldn’t tell you what came first, but the first thing that he registered was the girl. _

  
_As soon as the words leave his mouth the crying stops and she looks up at him, tear-stained face completely devoid of emotion. “Why did you have to kill me?” She asks. _

  
_“Wha-“ He starts, but suddenly she’s gone and Theo is in her place, strong hand gripped tight around his throat where the girl had been clinging, strangling him. _

  
_“Why’d you do it, Stiles?” Theo snarls at him. “Why’d you kill her? _

  
_Stiles manages a look over Theo’s shoulder to see that the little girl is now laying where he had been, tears and blood alike still wet as the Pack stands around her in shock. _

  
_“He’s a monster Scott!” Allison yells as she cradle’s the little girl in her arms. Her dead eyes hold his with no sign of every letting him go. “Look at what he did!” _

  
_“She was just a little girl!” Lydia now. _

  
_“He’s evil,” Erica snaps out next, “We all saw it. The magic, he’s just like the Nogitsune now.” _

  
_“I warned them, Stiles.” Theo says into his ear. “I warned them that you were dark. You can’t survive something like that without being tainted. That’s what you are, Stiles – the Nogitsune’s dirty whore.” _

  
_“Why did you kill me?” _

  
_It’s too much. _

_The panic builds as their words continue, harsh and sharp like knives cutting little pieces of him away. The pain in his chest and head grows as Theo continues to strangle him. But still, he doesn’t truly break until it’s Isaac’s turn to speak. _

  
_“How could you?” _

  
_That’s it. That’s his breaking point. He just explodes. Everything goes up in a flash of blinding blue light that leaves his eyes burning. His ears ring and it fades, but he doesn’t understand what he’s seeing. _

  
_Why is he in a cemetery?_

  
_Why is his dad here? _

  
_It all snaps into place at once, overwhelming him with the realization of what’s going on as he wishes he could to back to before he figured it out – before he saw the names on the headstones and heard the words his father was saying. _

  
_Scott McCall. _

  
_Liam Dunbar._

  
_Lydia Martin. _

  
_Vernon Boyd. _

  
_Erica Reyes. _

  
_Isaac Lahey-_

  
_He forces himself not to look at the others, but he can’t stop the words. _

  
_“-and as Sheriff I promise all of you that I will catch the monster that did this. Stiles will be put to justice for what he’s done-“_

  
_‘See?’ The Nogitsune whispers into his ear. ‘I told you. They’re afraid.’ _

  
_“It’s just a dream.” He says, but it barely even comes out a whisper. _

  
_‘Are you sure about that, Stiles?’ A chill runs down his spine as he raises his hands up to count his fingers, but there are tears in his eyes, blurring his vision. _

  
_No. _

  
_He can’t see. _

  
_How is he supposed to tell if this is a dream if he can’t see? _

  
_“He killed my baby.” Melissa’s sobs nearly kill him. The hatred in her voice would be enough to make him react any day, but when it’s coming from the woman who raised him _ _after his mother died and being directed towards him, he has no hope of ever surviving._

  
The panic and pain continue all night, to the point that Stiles loses all concept of time. It feels as if this is all he’s ever known – this special brand of torture – and he eventually he just gives up. 

  
With no end in sight, he finally just let’s go and takes it. 

  
Each scene is different yet completely the same. He tries and fails to save someone – the Pack or an innocent – but every time it’s like they don’t actually see it, instead they blame him, saying that he killed them, or that his powers are evil, or that he’s evil.

  
He watches them die over and over, no matter what happens. He listens to the cruel words they throw at him, unable to block them out – a few times they even attacked him, but by that point he had already stopped fighting. 

  
Even worse than him suffering at the hands of those he cares about, is the fact that he has to deal with the Nogitsune spitting poison into his head the whole time. 

  
Unlike normal, however, is that he doesn’t wake up during the night. Not once. Not until four in the morning when the pain of him digging his nails into his sides finally jerks him back to consciousness. The blood that’s wet on his fingers does nothing to calm his racing heartbeat or stop the flow of tears that stream down his face. It’s a long time before he can even get up to drag himself to the bathroom and tend to the new – particularly deep and painful – scratches on his sides. 

  
‘You and me forever, Stiles.’ The nogitsune says as he smoothes the bandage over his side. Stiles hopes that he's imagining the feeling on his breath on the back of his neck.

  
“As if.” He writes a note to his dad, grabs his bag and leaves. He isn’t exactly sure where he’s going, only that he needs to clear his head. He ends up standing in front of the gym that Steve had mentioned to him. He had said that he had a tendency to go there when he couldn’t sleep to clear his head, and that Stiles was welcome any time. 

  
Stiles picks up the key Steve gave him and unlocks the door. 

  
He doesn’t really look around much except to make sure that Steve isn’t here. He wraps his hands and blares the loudest, most obnoxious heavy metal music he can find through his headphones before he begins attacking a punching bag with what little fight he currently has left in him. 

  
*****

  
Stiles nearly screams as he breaks his second pair of headphones in the past hour. They keep getting caught on his arms when he hits the punching bag. The first pair he stomped on in frustration, smashing the earbud to pieces. This one made the mistake of getting tangled when it got ripped out of his phone and fell to the ground. He gave up on untangling them almost immediately and instead ripped the cord in two. 

  
Unbeknownst to Stiles, Steve and Tony watch from the doorway, both wearing grim expressions as the seriousness of the situation dawns on them.

Stiles isn’t okay. 

  
They all had questions after the Doombot thing – who wouldn’t when a human teenager is found passed out on top of robot carnage and then goes into a sleep-depravation induced coma where he screams and says some scary shit in his sleep for a fucking week – but this… is more than they had expected. 

  
Stiles becomes aware of their presence when he finally does let out a frustrated “Shut up!”, clamping his hands over his ears so hard that Steve finally moves to put a hand on his shoulder. “Shit!” He jumps, flinching away from the contact – a movement neither Steve nor Tony miss. “Don’t scare me like that.” 

  
“Stiles, are you okay?” Steve asks, and it finally hits Stiles that they’ve probably been here long enough to witness the mental breakdown he’s currently going through.   
He knows it’s no use arguing. He’s already caught sight of his reflection. He looks like hell. 

  
His hair is messier than usual, hanging down around his eyes with sweat, he’s pale as a sheet, his lips have been bitten bloody, there are dark circles under his eyes that look like he’s been working on them for a week instead of the sixteen hours his friends have been gone, not to mention that the new marks on his side started bleeding hours ago and there’s now blood starting to appear on his shirt. 

  
More than that though, Stiles looks defeated. It’s not just the physical exhaustion either, it’s in his eyes and the way his shoulders sag inwards. 

  
In the privacy of his own head, Steve cries a little internally at how much Stiles reminds him of Bucky right now.

  
Despite the fact that he knows exactly what he looks like, and that there’s currently blood coming from under the wraps on his hands, smearing the punching bag in front of him, he lies anyways. “Couldn’t sleep.” He says, giving them his best slight self-depreciating ‘what-can-you-do’ smile. “Figured I’d work off some steam.” 

  
“Stiles…” Steve starts, giving him his sad, golden retriever eyes that put Scott’s to shame. “Do you really expect us to believe that?” 

  
“It’s not a lie Steve.” It takes a lot of energy to keep himself from snapping at the captain. As much as he likes Steve and Tony, all they’re doing is making his mood worse. 

  
“You’re right, Stiles.” Tony says, stepping forward before Steve can say anything else. “It was very specifically not a lie, because you didn’t answer the question.” 

  
“Yes, I did.” He knows Tony sees right through him, but he can’t do this right now. He just can’t. Not when he can see the Nogitsune standing behind them in the mirror, whispering poison in his ears. “Look, guys, I get that you’re trying to be nice and all, but-“

  
“I talked to Natasha.” The dark-haired man cuts him off and he knows that this isn’t going to be good. “She said that you fell and broke the bathroom mirror last night.”

  
‘Oh, how sweet.’ Void hisses in his ear. ‘Another person that cares about you. Another person we’ll destroy.’ Stiles can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine at that. 

  
“What’s your point?” He shakes it off, doing his best to block out the play-by-play he’s getting as Void shares his very well thought out plans, he has for Tony. 

  
“Well she also said that you sent her and Clint home last night.” Wow, this is so not the time for him to push this. “Told them that you’d stay with your dad, only when she stopped by your house this morning, the sheets were bloody, the mirror had clearly been punched, and your dad was just getting home from work.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything.

“Look, kid, I’m not the best at this, but we’ve all been going insane trying to figure out what’s going on with you, so I’m giving this adulting thing a shot.” 

  
“Tony, this is really not the tim-“

  
“We haven’t asked.” Tony goes right on, completely ignoring his plea. “We didn’t asked about the breakdown in the lab. We didn’t ask about the thing with the Doombots. We didn’t ask why Steve found you on top of a pile of dismembered bots without a scratch, shaking even while unconscious. We didn’t ask why you were so sleep-deprived that you fell into a coma for a week after that, or what you’ve been through that made you scream bloody murder in your sleep. We didn’t ask about the scars.” He’s staring at the floor by now, in attempt to avoid their gazes, but the sheer amount of emotion in Tony’s voice almost makes him cry. “But enough is enough. You are not okay, Stiles. I know what not okay looks like, and this is so far past it that we’re all worried. You got to give me something here kid, anything. We can help.” 

  
‘Go ahead, Stiles.’ He's fairly sure that he _can_ feel Void’s breath on the back of his neck. ‘Tell them. Tell them that you’re a monster. Tell them that you ripped those Doombots apart like they were made of paper. Tell them why you were so seep deprived – because you killed your friends and your scared to see them in your sleep, because you’re scared you’re becoming me.’ 

  
Shut up!

  
‘Tell them! Are you afraid, Stiles? You should be. Because once they know they’ll never see you the same. Or should I say us?’ 

  
He wants to curl up in a ball and hide for the rest of his life. He wants to stab himself in the ears until he can’t hear Void’s words – can’t hear the truth in them. He wants to go back to beating his anger and pain out into the punching bag. 

  
Instead he takes a deep breath, pretends he can’t her Void and looks back up at Tony and Steve. “You’re right.” His voice comes out in an uneven whisper. He clears his throat and tries again. “You’re right, I’m not okay. But I’m not ready to talk about it yet Tony, I can’t.”

  
“Stiles-“

  
“Just, give me a second, Steve, please.” The blonde man nods solemnly and waits, worry evident in his eyes. “I’m drowning, okay? I know I am. But talking about it, means I have to think about it, and when I think about it, I remember just how deep I am – how far I have to fight before I can get back to air. And I know this is fucked up, I do, but it’s just easier to pretend like I’m not. Hell, I’ve been doing it this whole time, and I was fine…but then…my friends came to my rescue. And yeah, we were all still fucked up, but – just for a second – we were getting a little better. Now they’re gone again, and I’m right back to where I started, and I’m out of my head worrying about Isaac, and I’ve got Voi-“ 

  
Shit. 

  
That was close. 

  
Okay. Deep breath. Try again. 

  
“Look, my point is that, I know I’m not okay Tony.” The younger brunette shrugs at the pair. “I haven’t been in a long fucking time. But I physically can’t do this right now. Okay? Isaac’s gone. And I’m worried. And I’m drowning. And my head is not exactly a great place to be right now. So, I’m sorry that I’m worrying you. I am. But the only thing I can do right now to stay sane is beat the crap out of this punching bag and wait for one of them to text.” 

  
The silence is heavy. Steve’s eyes are watery. Tony looks hollow. Even Void is quiet – although Stiles is pretty sure it’s satisfaction on his part.

Then, finally:

“Let Steve patch you up first. You’re losing a lot of blood from your sides.” 

  
“Thank you.” He doesn’t even think that Tony hears it with how quiet it comes out, but the next thing he knows he’s wrapped up in a fiercely gentle hug. 

  
“It’s okay to be broken Stiles.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, guys. I don't even know what to say.  
I guess I should start with a HUGE apology for how long it took me to get this out and how short it is. As it turns out, writing angst while you're feeling real angsty is not great for you mental health, so I've kind of been putting this off for a while, but its too a.m. and I'm already numb, so might as well do this now right?  
I'm so grateful for all the wonderful comments and encouragements you guys have left. Thank you so much for being patient with me. I'm sorry that I made you wait so long for such a shitty chapter. I'm going to try to get more stuff out soon, but if I'm learning anything it's that you guys should probably just ignore me when I say that, because clearly I am incapable of consistency.  
Anyways, sorry for being so depressing. I hope you guys like this chapter - I hate it - as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it in the comments. 
> 
> xoxo babes


	11. oh shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit goes from dark to super dark while stiles is faced with the realization that maybe Void isn't as gone as he though he was.  
Trigger warnings for some blood, scars, mentions of violence and unintentional self-harm, as well as an overall angst warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance.

The silence around the three of them grew even heavier as Steve drew off the blood-soaked t-shirt Stiles had been wearing, bearing all his scars – the self-inflicted and those left from too long trying to keep up with the supernatural – for Steve and Tony to see. Up until this point, Stiles had been entirely focused on trying to keep himself still while Steve patched his hands, and avoid the pleading puppy-dog eyes that have been begging him to talk, and not screaming at Void to shut up. So, yeah, he forgot about the scars.   
If he’s being honest with himself, he barely ever remembers the scars at all. He’s had them for so long. Its not like many people even know about them. Isaac and his dad, sure, maybe Lyds Erica and Boyd, but the rest of the pack never seemed to notice that he always smelled of blood. They were so quick to tell him he was too weak to fight, to breakable, and yet they never seemed to notice that he got hurt every time he was dragged into the fight anyways – or worse, they noticed and didn’t care. 

  
Void is a big fan of that theory. 

  
At first he was confused on why Steve and Tony both let out horrified gasps. Then it hit him. 

  
_I look like I’ve been in a war_. He thinks to himself, to which the more intelligent part of him, that is not standing there frozen with him mouth hanging slightly open as he looks for something to say, replies, _You have you idiot. _

  
Steve’s hands hover for a moment before finding a space on his arms that is clear of scars to rest. 

  
“Stiles,” He says, but he waits a long time to look up at the man. Steve looks damn near close to tears when he finally meets his eyes. “Who-“ He eyes the claw marks that litter his body carefully, “What happened to you?” 

  
He scoffs out a laugh and says, “Beacon Hills happened, Steve.” 

  
Stiles doesn’t need to look at himself to know what he sees. There are three sets of claw marks, one diagonally over his right hip, one that’s mostly vertical over the left side of his back, and one set on the inside of his left bicep. Each one is healed to varying degrees. The set on his arm is pretty much healed, but it wasn’t ever all that bad – Malia just nicked him on accident while he was trying to teach her Algebra. The one on his hip still has a little color to it, it’s from a rouge omega that Stiles literally collided with out in the woods while he was looking for a clan of pixies that had been terrorizing Beacon Hills. The one on his back is still dark purple and red, it still hurts sometimes too. It’s from Donovan. He hadn’t even realized he had it until he got home that night. 

  
Donovan also left small scars on his shoulder from where he grabbed him with his claws. Those are mostly okay now though. He also has a few weird looking circular scars in the middle of his chest, from the stupid hunter guns. Those sucked. He has several small scars as well as three larger ones that are scattered over his chest and back from Gerard’s torture. Thankfully Erica and Boyd had been unconscious for that part – he also has three on his legs, but Steve and Tony can’t see those, so he’s not going to point out their existence. Then there is the long horizontal scar across his stomach from Void – it makes no sense that he has this scar, seeing as how it was made on the duplicate body that Void stole/took over, but he still has it, because Void sucks. There are a few others, all pretty small, but those aren’t all that important as they were just small scars he picked up here and there fighting the supernatural.

  
He figures that it looks a lot worse that it actually is, because of the claw marks he has put on his body in his sleep – namely the fresh ones that are still bleeding and have covered all of his sides and part of his back and chest in blood. 

  
“It’s not a bad as it looks.” Stiles tells the two men before him, especially now that Tony has moved closer to see that the hell happened to him. “It’s just the blood.”   
Steve seems beyond words as he silently starts cleaning the blood off of Stiles so that he can see what he’s doing. Tony seems to be struggling as well, he even looks faintly green, but Stiles just grits his teeth and focuses on not smacking Steve’s hands away from him. 

  
Void is laughing in the background. Today is one of those days when it’s not the wrapped up mummy he sees, but rather his own stolen face. He’s struggling with that a little.   
Void chats happily in Stiles head, but the other three say nothing until Steve finishes taking care of Stiles.

  
It’s Tony who breaks the silence, how shocking. “Stiles-“ He starts, only to be cut off by the ringing of Stiles phone. Everything damn near stops as he practically lunges for it, heart pounding a mile a minute. Even Void quiets, which is concerning. 

  
“Hello?” He asks when he’s finally managed to accept the call without dropping his phone. “Isaac?” 

  
_“Hey.”_ Isaac says over the phone and Stiles’ heart immediately sinks at the worried tone._ “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, there’s some issues over here.”_

  
Shit. 

  
“What kind of issues?” Stiles asks, trying to keep his voice steady and not to jump to the worst case scenario – which is that Scott and Theo found out early and now Theo has convinced Scott he’s done something wrong and Theo is trying to hurt him-or worse he already has and Isaac is calling wounded and dying to tell him-

  
_ “I might have to stay for a few more days.”_ Isaac says quietly, snapping him out of where he was quickly letting himself spiral into a panic attack. 

  
God, why can’t anything work out his way, just once? 

  
“Oh.” God, he’s pretty sure he can taste vomit. “Okay. Um, d-do you, do you need me to-“

  
_“No.”_ Isaac says softy. _“No. Don’t come down here.”_ He almost cries in relief at the words. _“You’ve just gotten free of this fucking hellmouth, I’m not dragging you back. Not for them.”_

  
Stiles takes a deep breath to steady himself and hopefully battle away some of the worry that’s flaring up in his chest for his best friend. “Isaac,” He says after a moment of understanding silence between the two, “If you need help, promise me you’ll tell me. Because I don’t want to l-“

  
_“I promise, Stiles.”_ He breathes just a tiny bit easier at that._ “I promise. You going to be okay up there?”_

  
“I’ll be fine.” Stiles lies without even thinking about it.

  
_“I can hear you lying to me.”_ Isaac points out._ "You know that right?”_

  
“I’ll be fine, Isaac.” He insists, knowing the second time around was no more convincing that the first. 

  
_“Then you have to make me a promise too.”_ Isaac says after apparently realizing that Stiles is just going to keep lying about it. _“If it gets too bad, you call, because I will turn around and be on the next flight out there, with Erica, Boyd, and Lydia in tow if you need me too.”_

  
“I promise.” Stiles says, only he isn’t entirely sure if he means it or not. All he knows is that his heartbeat is steady, and that’s all that matters to him at the moment. 

  
_“Okay.”_ Isaac says, apparently satisfied with the steady heartbeat as well. _“I’ve got to go. Make sure you’re not sleeping alone, okay?” _

  
“Okay, mom.” Stiles rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “Be safe.” 

  
_“You too.”_

  
Across the room, Tony and Steve have been talking between themselves about what they just saw from Stiles.

  
“Steve,” Tony says, looking so much like a worried parent it’s almost comical, “He screamed, ‘get out of my head’. That’s more than just not having enough sleep. And the scars?” He runs a hand over his face tiredly. He hasn’t been getting much sleep – well, not that he ever does, but less than normal – because he’s been worried about Stiles. He’s been worried since that day in the office, and then even more after the sleep depravation induced coma that boy went into when they found him on top of a pile of dismembered Doombots. Tony just can’t seem to get the way the kid screamed in his sleep out of his head, and now, he’s screaming while he’s awake and he looks like he’s been through literal hell. “He looks like he’s been attacked by animals and t…”

  
“Tortured.” Steve finishes when Tony can’t. “What do we do Tony? He won’t tell us and pushing him for information is clearly a horrible idea. But god, Tony, he looked just like Bucky.”

  
“Bucky.” Tony says, wanting to smack himself upside the head for not realizing it sooner. “Of course. I’m calling Bucky.” 

  
Neither of the two men are aware of the vindictive joy with which Void has clung onto their conversation, using it as a weapon against Stiles while the two talk. 

  
‘What’s wrong Stiles?’ Void asks as Stiles struggles to take in even breaths and to not drop his phone. ‘Are you finally seeing the truth?’

  
“Shut up.” Stiles unknowingly whispers out loud, unable to look up at his darker image. The call from Isaac ended with him feeling like something just took hold of his ankle and drug him further under the water. He feels like his lungs are ready to burst and there’s no oxygen relieve the pain. 

  
‘There’s no trouble in Beacon Hills, Stiles.’ His own voice says back, only smoother and more amused as Void voices his darkest insecurities. ‘He’s avoiding you. He’s stalling for time so he can find a way to tell you he’s not coming back.’

  
“No,” Stiles grits out, tightening his grip on his phone, “he’s not. I trust Isaac, he’s Pack.”

  
‘Then why did you lie?’ He shuts his eyes tight when he sees his own figure moving closer to him. It keeps him from having to look at Void, but it doesn’t stop him from hearing his words. ‘You told him you’re fine.’ Void continues undeterred. ‘You’re not.’

  
_Whose fault is that?_ He thinks to himself, ignoring the fact that Void can hear him even in his head. 

  
‘You promised him you’d call.’ He swears he can almost feel his breath on the side of his face. ‘You won’t.’

  
Why would I drag him back here just to watch you try and make me kill him? 

  
‘If you trust him so much, why did you lie? It’s because you know he doesn’t want to be here. Because you know he’s better off far away from you where you can’t kill him like you kill everything else you touch.’ 

  
That’s not true! 

  
He isn’t sure if he hisses it or thinks it. But really, does it matter when he’s drowning and hurting and exhausted and his head feels like it’s going to implode? 

  
‘It is true.’ Void hisses back. ‘Everyone knows it. Even the new ones are starting to realize how poisonous you are. Look at them. Whispering about you. They’re probably looking for ways to get rid of you before you kill them too. Just like you killed Allison and Aiden.’

  
He opens his eyes against his will and almost jumps out of his skin when he comes face to face with his own refection. He knows the only difference between the two right now, in his pale, sleep-deprived, and a little malnourished state, is the malice that seems to emanate out of Void’s stolen form. 

  
“I didn’t kill Allison and Aiden.” Stiles protests, too tired to effectively fight the tears springing o his eyes. “You killed them. I d-didn’t-“

  
‘Yes,’ Void cackles, moving closer to Stiles making him move back but he keeps coming. ‘You did. It may have been my voice that guided you, but it is your hands that bare their blood. You can lie to everyone else Stiles, but you can’t lie to me, I’m in your head.’ He trips over his bag and goes sprawling back on the floor. Void smirks as he keeps scrambling back away from him, only to run into a wall. ‘I know every dirty little secret that you pretend don’t exist.’ He says as he crouches down to look Stiles in the eyes. ‘I know that you liked the power I gave you. You liked being strong, no longer skinny, defenseless Stiles. You reveled in it! I know that I’m not the cause for the darkness in your head. You can tell everyone that it’s my fault, but we both know that it was there long before me. Long before three silly little teenagers played with rituals they didn’t understand. Your darkness is just that, yours.’

  
“Shut up!” Stiles screams, his hands clamped over his ears to stop the words but it doesn’t help. “Shut up!” He cries. “Please, just stop it!”

  
His heart stops for a moment when real, solid hands touch him and he strikes out, hitting and kicking and clawing at whatever he comes in contact with as he panics.   
“You’re not real.” He cries. “You’re not real! You’re gone! I-you’re gone!” 

  
“Stiles?” A new, but familiar voice cuts him off as two hands – one warm and giving, the other cold and solid – wrap around his wrists and he crumples.

  
“Bucky.” Stiles cries brokenly, looking up to meet blue eyes. “ Make it stop.” He begs. “Please. Just make him stop. He won’t stop.” 

  
“No, I won’t stop.” Bucky says, his face changing abruptly from worried to malicious, eyes going hard and smile cutting like a knife. “Not until you’ve killed every last person you’ve ever cared about. Not until everyone finally sees your darkness is just like mine.'

  
“No.” Stiles cries, jerking away from Bucky violently, and in doing so forgetting that he’s up against a wall. The last thing he sees before bashing his head on the wall and passing out is the blurry outline of ten blurry fingers.

  
*****  
The entire Avengers team – plus Pepper and Fitz-Simmons – are all once again crowded into a hospital room, watching over the clearly not okay teenager as they wait for his father to arrive. 

  
Pepper has long since given up on getting Tony to stop pacing, and has instead taken to sitting next to Stiles protectively holding his hand. Clint is frowning at Stiles, lost in his own head. Natasha is doing something similar except that she also looks like she might kill anyone that speaks to her while at the same time. Bruce is taking quietly with Fitz-Simmons, trying to make sense of the data readings they’re getting off the unconscious boy. Thor is sitting in the chair on the opposite side of Stiles, uncharacteristically somber as he watches the boy in deep thought. Steve is sitting next to Bucky, looking as much like an emotional support animal as is possible for a human being. Bucky himself is staring at his feet, looking like he could either kill everyone in the room or have a complete breakdown at the slightest noise. 

  
Every once in a while, Tony, Steve, or Bucky will glance up at one of the others, as if they’re looking for the confirmation that what they saw actually happened. One minute Tony and Steve were talking while Stiles was on the phone, the next they looked up when they heard his phone hitting the ground only to see him shouting at nothing while he cried and tried to cover his ears and close his eyes. They tried to talk to him, get to him focus on them, but it was like he couldn’t hear their words or feel their hands on his shoulders. He had stared straight through Tony like he wasn’t even there, like he was seeing something he and Steve couldn’t. 

  
Then Bucky got there and it all got so much worse. 

  
I didn’t kill Allison and Aiden. He had said through his tears just as Bucky got there. You killed them. I d-didn’t- Stiles never finished the sentence, but his eyes grew wide with fear and grief as Bucky demanded to know what the hell was going on. They didn’t have any time to tell him that they had no clue, because then he started backing up like something was stalking towards him, first just one step and then moving away as quickly as he could. So quickly, that none of them could stop him from tripping over the gym bag that he had left on the floor. 

  
Stiles had hit the floor hard, ripping open most of his stitches on the right side, but he just kept scrambling back like his life depended on it, crying even harder when he ran into a wall, no where else to go. 

  
The three of them had no clue what to do. Was he hallucinating? How do you fix hallucinations? Then he started screaming again and it sounded too raw and tortured to be coming out of someone so young. 

  
_Shut up! Shut up! Please, just stop it!_

  
Bucky broke at that, moving forward to try and help Stiles, but it only seemed to make it worse. The fear in Stiles eyes changed into pure terror so intense that Tony’s heart genuinely shattered. None of them knew what the boy was seeing that they couldn’t but it was clearly so much worse than they ever could have imagined. 

  
_You’re not real._ He had more sobbed than anything, kicking and scratching and clawing at anything and everything he came into contact with. _You’re not real! You’re gone! I-you’re gone!_

  
He had gone completely still for a single moment when Bucky called his name. His eyes refocused and finally met Bucky’s before he collapsed in his arms, crying and begging for him to make it stop. 

  
_Bucky. Make it stop. Please. Just make him stop. He won’t stop._

  
_It’s okay._ Bucky had said, trying desperately to find a way to help and failing. _It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay. Just breathe._

  
He had recoiled like he had been burned. Brown eyes going wide as they filled with terror one last time before wrenching himself from Bucky’s arms. The only problem with that was of course that the only place he had to go was back into the concrete wall he had been propped up against. 

  
_No._ He had whispered, and somehow that was worse than all the screaming and crying and begging combined. Then he held his hands up to his face just as his head made contact with the wall and he passed out. 

  
Now the three of them were wondering what the hell had happened. What had he seen that could have made him react like that and how the hell do they fix it, because none of them are strong enough to ever see the teen they have so quickly come to care about in that state ever again. 

  
Steve is stuck is some permanent state of shock. Stiles is so young. What could have happened to him for this to happen when he’s still so young? 

  
Tony is searching all through Stiles’ history while he paces, looking for anything that could explain this, but the more he finds the more confused he is. Even Jarvis is having a hell of a time trying sort out a solid timeline of very vague and disjointed descriptions of what are clearly very weird events. 

  
Bucky is trying to block out the whole memory before he spirals. Watching Stiles like that, clearly fighting with something going on in his head is hitting way to close to home for his liking, and the longer he sits there waiting for answers, the more time those memories have to worm their way into his brain. He has enough trouble fighting off flashbacks and bad memories on good days, and this is not a good day. 

  
“Sir,” Even Jarvis’s toneless voice sounds a little worried, “Mr. Stilinski has arrived.” 

  
The room simultaneously releases and accumulates tension. Tony just nods at the same time that the Sheriff bursts into the room, stopping cold when he sees his only child lying unconscious in a hospital bed. 

  
“Stiles.” He breathes rushing to his side. “What happened?” 

  
“We were about to ask you the same thing.” Tony says tensely, standing up to his full height. “What the hell is going on Sheriff?” 

  
“What do you-“ He stops when Tony hands him the tablet in his hands. It shows the security camera footage from the gym. When he sees Stiles like that again he stumbles back in shock, the tablet falling from his hands and hitting the floor, where it continues to show the footage, unimpeded. 

  
“No. He-fuck.” Thor quickly gets up from his seat and helps the man sit down when he sees how fast the blood drains from his face. 

  
“John,” Steve steps forwards, his usual confidence nowhere to be found, and like this he think he can see some of the skinny, scared kid he used to be before the serum, “We’re not blind. We’ve been able to see that something’s wrong with Stiles since that day in the lab. But it was clear that he wanted his space, so we didn’t pry – not even after the Doombot thing. But this is bad, and we want to help. But we can’t do anything if we don’t know what’s going on.” 

  
The man just sits there and stare at Steve for a long moment before glancing down at his sleeping son and whispering, “I’m sorry Mica. But I can’t do this by myself.” It takes another long moment before he look back up at the people around him and says, “So, how much do you know about werewolves?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...heeeyyyyy.  
I have good news: I put out a chapter.  
I also have bad news: it was super angsty and it took me five months.  
I'm pretty sure I've apologized in like all of my end notes, and you're probably kind of sick of that, but I'm gonna do it again. I know it's kind of ridiculous that it took me so long to write a new chapter, but by the time I finished school (I graduate, yay) I was super not in the mood to write and it kept on that way for a long time. Now that I am writing again, of course my computer decides that it has no storage left despite the fact that I have LITERALLY NOTHING DOWNLOADED ON IT. Seriously, I even keep all of my writings on flash drives.  
But, none of that matters because I finally have some new trash for you all to read. Sorry it took so long.  
I do have a question for you guys that is semi-related to this work: when I hit writers block, I tend to go work on other stories that I have going, and recently I've started a Teen Wolf/The Originals crossover and I was wondering if any of you guys would be interested if I posted that to. Understand it's no where near done, but I figured that if you guys wanted to see it I would actually start trying on it and hopefully that would give me the motivation to put more stuff out more often. et me know what you think in the comments.  
Speaking of comments, I as always, would like to say a big thanks to everyone that left comments, I always love reading them and hearing what you guys have to say, and I definitely want more of that, so keep it coming ( I promise respond to those comments eventually)  
I hope you guys like it, and I'm looking forward to hearing where you guys think this is going next.  
until next time
> 
> xoxo babes


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